OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 66 

Ys which were hard and slippery, he wrenched 
T SO violently, that, when the sinews gave way, 

fellow's arm swelled fearfully up to the very 
An Indian, touched by mercy, took him to his 
kept him there two days which we spent in that 

leaving me in ignorance and great anxiety as to 

^htfall, we were taken to a hut where the youth 
us. They ordered us to sing as other captives 

to do ; we at last complied, for alas, what else 
J do ? but we sang the " Canticles of the Lord 
Qge land. " Tortm-e followed the chanting, and 
)urst especially on E-ene and myself, for the good 
ill kept William in his hut. Accordingly, on 
especially on Rene, they threw hot ashes and 
3, burning him terribly in the breast, 
next hung me up between two poles in the hut, 
tie arms above the elbow with coarse rope woven 
rk of trees. Then I thought I was to be burnt, 
s one of their usual preliminaries. And that I 
tiow that, if I had thus far borne anything with 

or even with patience, these came not from 
Dut from Him who gives strength to the weary ; 
though left to myself in tliis torture, I groaned 
I " I will glory in my infirmities that the pow- 
rist may dwell in me," (2 Cor. xii. 9,) and from 
Lse pain, I begged my torturers to ease me some 
>m those hard, rough ropes. But God justly 



PERILS 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS 



Iroatites 0f Sliijftjmfe m^a |nWatt CagtiWtg. 



GLEANED FROM EARLY MISSIONARY ANNALS. 



JOHN aiLMARY SHEA, 



AUTHOR OF THE "DISCOVERY AND EXPLORATIOIT OF THE MISSISSIPPI," 

"HISTORY OF THE CATHOLIC MISSIONS," "SCHOOL 

HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES," ETC. 



BOSTOIST: 
PATRICK DONAHOE. 

1857. 



flbdO 
T 

■S55 



V 



V 



o 



/ 



^ 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER I. 

PAGE. 

The Shipwreck of Father Charles Lalemant, Father Philibert Noy- 
rot, of the Society of Jesus, and others, off Cape Breton. . . 9 

CHAPTER II. 

Captivity of Father Isaac Jogues, of the Society of Jesus, among 
the Mohawks. 16 

CHAPTER III. 
Captivity and death of Rene Goupil. . . . . . , 86 

CHAPTER IV. 
Death of Father Jogues 95 

CHAPTER V. 

Captivity of Father Francis Joseph Bressani, of the Society of Jesus. 104 

CHAPTER VI. 

Voyages and Shipwrecks of Father Emmanuel Crespel, Recollect of 
the order of St. Francis . . 131 



PREFACE. 



No works are more popular, or generally read, 
than those describing the perils by sea and land, 
through which the writers have passed; and 
one work of fiction, the Eobinson Crusoe of 
Defoe, will ever be a favorite from its apparent 
reality, its combination of perils from shipwreck 
and perils from the barbarous savage, which the 
imaginary hero recounts. 

No fiction can equal the real sufierings of 
every kind endured by the early missionaries to 
this country. Like Saint Paul, they might 
indeed speak of their perils — perils by sea, 
perils by land, perils from robbers, perils from 
false brethren. Fortunately for our edification, 
many of them left narratives of their adven- 
tures, and some of these, we have gathered in 
this volume from various sources, which we 
might call original. They comprise Father 
Charles Lalemant's narrative of his shipwreck oflf 
Cape Breton, taken from the Voyages de Cham- 



VI. PREFACE. 

^Mn, published at Paris in 1632 ; the narrative 
of Father Jogues' captivity, taken from a sworn 
copy, preserved at Montreal, and from that 
printed in the Societas 3Iilitans of Tanner ; the 
captivity and death of Eene Gonpil from the 
autograph of the martyred Jogues ; Letters of 
Father Jogues from the Relations de la Nouvelle 
France^ and sworn copies ; the captivity of Father 
Bressani, from his work Breve Relatione, published 
at Macerata, in 1653 ; and the thrilling account 
given by Father Crespel of his shipwreck on 
Anticosti, being the whole of the little volume 
published by him at Frankfort, Maine, in 1742. 

New York, Anniversary of the death ? 
of Father Jogues, 1856. { 

JOHN GILMAEY SHEA. 



!n1Is of t|c §mn aiilr ^ilteii^ss. 



PERILS 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS, 



CHAPTER I. 



THE SHTPWRECK OF FATHER CHAELES LALEMANT, PHTLIBERT NOYROT, 
AND OTHERS, OFF CAPE BRETON. 

^ The writer of the following letter was one of the most eminent 
of the early Jesuit missionaries in Canada, where several others 
of his family were distinguished, and one, the illustrious Father 
Gabriel Lalemant, died a martyr to his zeal for the conversion of the 
Indians. 

Father Charles Lalemant, a son of the Sieur Lalemant, Lieutenant 
Criminel of Paris, was born in that city in 1587. He entered the 
Society of Jesus at the age of twenty, and was soon followed by his 
two brothers, Jerome' and Louis, the latter a celebrated ascetical 
author. Father Charles was one of the missionaries at the colony 
of St. Savior's, on Moimt Desert Island, in Maine, in 1613, and was 
there taken prisoner. He was subsequently Rector of the College at 
Paris, but was again sent to Canada, in 1625. Two years afterwards 
he returned to France for supplies, but, on reaching the mouth of 
the St. Lawrence, in the summer of 1629, the captain learned that 
Quebec had been taken by the English. In endeavoring to sail back, 
the vessel was lost. Father Lalemant thus describes the shipwreck, 
in a letter to his Superior. We translate from the French, as pub- 
lished by the illustrious Champlain, in the edition of his voyages 
which appeared at Paris in 1632. 



10 PERILSOFTHE 



LETTER. 



" ^ The Lord cliastising has chastised me ; but he hath 
not delivered me over to death.' " — (Psalms cxvii. 18.) 
A chastisement the more severe, as the shipwreck has 
been attended by the death of the Rev. Father Philibert 
Noyrot, and of our brother, Louis Malot, two men who 
would, it seems to me, have been of great service to our 
seminary. Yet, as God has so disposed, we must seek 
consolation in his holy will, out of which there never 
was a solid or contented mind, and I am sure that expe- 
rience has shown your reverence that the bitterness of 
our sorrows, steeped in the sweetness of God's good 
pleasure, when a soul binds itself indissolubly to that, 
loses all or most of its gall, or, if some sighs yet remain, 
for past or present afflictions, it is only to aspire the 
more for heaven, and meritoriously perfect that con- 
formity in which the soul has resolved to spend the rest 
of its days. 

" Of the four members of our Society in the ship, 
God, dividing equally, has taken two and left the two 
others. These two good religious, well disposed, and 
resigned to death, will serve as victims to appease God's 
wrath justly excited against us for our faults, and to 
render his goodness favorable henceforth to the success 
of our designs. 

"What destroyed our vessel was a violent south- 
wester, which arose when we were off the coast ; it was 
so impetuous that, with all the care and diligence of our 
captain and crew, with all the vows and prayers which 
we could offer to avert the blow, we could not avoid 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 11 

being driven on the rocks, on the 26th day after our 
departure, feast of St. Bartholomew, about 9 o'clock in 
the evening. Of tvrenty-four that were in the vessel, 
only ten escaped ; the rest were engulphed in the waves. 
Father ISToyrot's two nephews shared their uncle's fate. 
"We interred the bodies of several, among others, of 
Father Noyrot and Brother Louis. Of seven others, 
we have had no tidings in spite of all our search. 

'' To tell you how Father Vieuxport and I escaped, 
would be difficult, and I believe that God alone knows, 
who, according to the designs of his divine providence, 
has preserved us ; for, for my own part, not deeming it 
possible, humanly speaking, to avoid the dangers, I had 
resolved to stay in the cabin with Brother Louis, pre- 
paring ourselves to receive the death stroke, which could 
not be delayed over three Misere7'es, when I heard some 
one calling me on deck. Supposing that my assistance 
was needed, I ran up and found that it was Father Noy- 
rot, who asked me to give him absolution. After giv- 
ing it, and singing the Salve Regina with him, I had 
to stay on deck ; for there was no way to get below ; 
for the sea was so high and the wind so furious, that, in 
less than a moment, the side on the rock went to pieces. 
I was close by Father Noyrot when a wave broke so 
impetuously against the side where we were standing, 
that it dashed it to pieces, and separated me from Father 
Noyrot, from whose lips I heard these last words : 
^ I?ito thy hands I commend my spirit.^ For my own 
part, this same wave left me struggling amid four frag- 
ments of the wreck, two of which struck me so violently 
on the chest, and the other two on the back, that I ex- 
pected to be killed before sinking forever ; but, just 



12 PERILS OP THE 

tiierij another wave disengaged me from tlie fragments, 
sweeping off my cap and slippers, and scattered the rest 
of the ship over the sea. I fortunately fell on a plank 
to which I clung ; it was connected with the rest of the 
side of the ship. There we were then at the mercy of 
the waves, which did not spare us, rising I cannot tell 
how many feet above our heads, and then breaking over 
us. After floating thus a long while in the dark, for 
night had set in, I perceived, on looking around me, 
that I was near the shore of what seemed to be an 
island, which almost surrounded us, and was covered 
with brambles. Looking a little more attentively, I 
made out six persons not far from me, two of whom 
perceiving me, urged me to do my best to join them ; 
this was not easy, for I was greatly enfeebled by the 
blows I had received from the fragments of the wreck. I 
exerted myself, however, so much that, by the help of 
my planks, I at last reached them, and by their aid got 
on the mainmast, which was still fast to part of the ship. 
I was not here long ; for, as we got nearer the island, 
our sailors quickly got ashore, and, by their help, all 
the rest of us were soon there. There we were, seven 
in all ; I had no hat or shoes ; my cassock and clothes 
all torn, and my body so bruised that I could scarcely 
stand up, and, in fact, they had to support me to en- 
able me to reach the wood. I had two severe contu- 
sions on the legs, especially the right one, which is 
still painful ; my hands cloven open and bruised ; my 
hip torn, and my chest much injured. We now re- 
tired to the wood wet as we came from the sea. Our 
first care was to thank God for preserving us, and to 
pray for those who were lost. That done, we lay down 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 13 

close by each other in order to try and get warm, 
but the ground and the grass^ still wet with the heavy 
rain, was not much fitted to dry us. Thus we spent the 
rest of the night, during which Father Vieuxport, 
who, thank God, was unhurt, slept well. The next 
morning, at daybreak, we began to examine the spot 
where we were, and found it to be an island from 
which we could pass to the main land. On the shore 
we found many things that the sea had thrown up ; 
among which I picked up two shoes, a cap, hat, cassock, 
and other necessary articles. Above all. Providence 
sent us, in our want, five kegs of wine, ten pieces of 
pork, oil, bread, cheese, and a gun and powder, which 
enabled us to strike a fire. After we had thus gathered 
all we could, on St. Louis' day, all set to work to do 
their best to build a boat out of fragments of the wreck, 
in which to coast along till we found a fishing-smack. 
We set to work with the wretched tools we found, and 
it was pretty well advanced on the fourth day, when we 
perceived a craft sailing towards the spot where we 
were. They took on board one of our sailors, who 
swam out near to where they were passing, and took 
him to their captain. That worthy man, hearing of our 
misfortunes, let down his boat, and came ashore to offer 
us a passage. We were thus saved ; for, the next day, 
we all slept on board. It was a Basque vessel, fishing 
about a league and a half from the rock where we struck, 
and, as their fishing season was far from being gone, 
we stayed with them the rest of August and all the 
month of September. On the first of October, an In- 
dian came to tell the captain that, if he did not sail, he 
ran a risk of being taken by the English. This news 



14 PERILS OFTHE 

made him give up his fishings and prepare for the 
voyage home. The same Indian told us that Captain 
Daniel was building a house twenty-five leagues ofi*, 
and had some Frenchmen there with one of our fathers. 
Father Yieuxport had already pressed me very hard to 
let him stay with this Indian^ who was really one of the 
best that could be found. I now told him, ^^ Here, 
father, is a means of satisfying your reverence. Father 
Yimont will not be sorry to have a companion. This 
Indian offers to take you to Daniel's place ; if you wish 
to stay there, you may ; if you wish to spend a few 
months with the Indians and learn the language, you 
may do so, and both Father Yimont and yourself 
will be satisfied." The good father was quite dehghted 
at the opportunity, and set off in the Indian'* canoe. I 
let him have all we had saved, except the large paint- 
ing which our Basque captain had taken, and which I 
would have made him give up, if another disaster had 
not befallen us. We left the coast on the sixth of 
October, and after more violent storms than I had yet 
ever seen, on the fortieth day of our voyage, as we were 
entering a port near San Sebastian in Spain, we were a 
second time wrecked. The vessel went into a thousand 
pieces, and all the fish was lost. All that I could do 
was to get into a boat in slippers and nightcap as I was, 
and, in that guise, go to our Father's at San Sebastian. 
I left there a week after, and, on the 20th of the pres 
ent month, reached Bourdevac, near Bordeaux. 

" Such was the issue of our voyage, by which you may 
see how great reason we have to be thankful to God. 

Charles Lalemant, S, J, 

Bordeaux, November 22, 1629." 



OCEAN AND WILDEKNESS. 15 

Although thus twice wrecked, and once a prisoner, Father Lale- 
mant was not to be repulsed from the Canada mission. He came 
out again in 1634, and began his projected school at Quebec. After 
attending Champlain on his death-bed, he returned to France, 
and died at the advanced age of eighty-seven, having been success- 
ively rector of the colleges of Rouen, La Fleche, and Paris, and being, 
at the time of his death, Superior of the Professed House in his 
native city. Besides the foregoing narrative of his shipwreck, he 
wrote a Relation of the first Jesuit mission to Canada, published in 
the Mercure Frangais, and " Entretiens sur la vie cacMe de Jesus 
Christ dans V Eucharistie" a new edition of which has just been 
published in France, edited by Father A. Cadres. 



16 PERILS OF THE 



CHAPTER II. 

CAPTIVITY OF FATHER ISAAC JOGUES AMONG THE MOHAWKS. 

Father Isaac Jogues, the writer of the following 
narrative, was born at Orleans, in France, in 1607, and, 
embracing the rule of St. Ignatius, became a member 
of the Society of Jesus, in 1624. Although a poet and 
scholar, he sought a foreign mission, and was sent to 
Canada soon after his ordination in 1636. After a short 
stay at Miscou, he proceeded to the country of the 
"Wendats or Hurons, in Upper Canada, and remained 
there amid every privation till 1642, when he was sent 
to Quebec by his Superior for necessaries of various 
kinds. On his return voyage, he was taken prisoner, 
and he thus relates his sufferings in a letter written 
from Renssalaerwick, now Albany, to the Provincial in 
France. The letter, which is in a pure and classic Latin, 
was first published by Alegamhe, in his Mortes Illustres, 
and subseq^uently by Tanner, in his Societas Militans, 
both rare works. A sworn copy of the original letter 
is preserved at Montreal in manuscript. 

narrative. 

Reverend Father in Christ — the Peace of 
Christ. — ^Wishing, as I do, to write to your reverence, 
I hesitate first in which language to address you, for, 
after such long disuse, almost equally forgetful of both, 
I find equal difficulty in each. Two reasons, however. 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. IT 

induce me to employ the less common idiom. I shall 
be better able to use the words of Holy Scripture, which 
have been, at all times, my greatest consolation : " Amid 
the tribulations which have found us exceedingly." — 
Psalms xlv. 2. I also wished this letter to be less 
open to all. The exceeding charity of your reverence, 
which, in other days, overlooked my manifold trans- 
gressions, will excuse, in a man for eight years a com- 
panion and associate of savages, nay, a savage now him- 
self in form and dress, whatever may be wanting in 
decorum or correctness. I fear more that, wanting in 
language, I may be still more so in knowledge, " nor 
know the time of my visitation," nor remember what 
character I here bear imposed on me by God as a 
preacher of his gospel, a Jesuit and a priest. This in- 
duced me to write to your reverence that, if this letter 
should ever reach your hands, I may, though lying 
here in this hard land, amid Iroquois and Maaquas, 
be helped by your masses, and the prayers of your 
whole province. This, I am in hopes, will be more 
earnestly given, when, fi-om the perusal of this letter, 
you shall see, both how much I am indebted to the 
Almighty, and in what need I am of the prayers of 
the pious, in which, I am aware, I have a powerful 
shield. 

We sailed from the Huron territory on the 13th of 
June, 1642, in four small boats, here called canoes ; we 
were twenty-three souls in all, five of us being French. 
This line of travel is, in itself, most difficult for many 
reasons, and especially because, in no less than forty 
places, both canoes and baggage had to be carried by 
land on the shoulders. It was now too full of danger 



18 PERILS OF THE 

from fear of tlie enemy, who, every year, by lying in 
wait on the roads to the French settlements, carry off 
many as prisoners ; and, indeed. Father John Brebeuf 
was all but taken the year before. Besides this, not 
long before they carried off two Frenchmen, but after- 
wards brought them back to their countrymen un- 
harmed, demanding peace on most unjust terms, and 
then conducted themselves in a very hostile manner, so 
that they were driven off by the cannons of the fort. 
On this, they declared that, if they took another French- 
man prisoner, they would torture him cruelly, like their 
other captives, and burn him alive by a slow fire. The 
Superior, conscious of the dangers I was exposed to on 
this journey, which was, however, absolutely necessary 
for God's glory, so assigned the task to me, that I might 
decline it if I chose ; " I did not, however, resist; I did not 
go back ; " (Isaias 1. 5 ;) but willingly and cheerfully 
accepted this mission imposed upon me by obedience 
and charity. Had I declined it, it would have fallen to 
another, far more worthy than myself. 

Having, therefore, loosed from St. Mary's of the 
Hurons, amid ever-varying fears of the enemy, dan- 
gers of every kind, losses by land and water, we at last, 
on the thirtieth day after our departure, reached in 
safety the Conception of the Blessed Virgin. This is a 
French settlement or colony, called Three Rivers, from 
a most charming stream near it, which discharges itself 
into the great river St. Lawrence, by three mouths. 
"We returned hearty thanks to God, and remained here 
and at Quebec about two weeks. 

The business which had brought us, having been 
concluded, we celebrated the feast of our holy Father 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 19 

Ignatius, and, on the second of August, were once 
more on our way for Huronia. The second day after 
our departure had just dawned, when, by the early 
light, some of our party discovered fresh foot-prints 
on the shore. "While some were maintaining that they 
were the trail of the enemy, others, that of a friendly 
party, Eustace Ahatsistari, to whom, for his gallant 
feats of arms, all yielded the first rank, exclaimed: 
*^ Brothers ! be they the bravest of the foe, for such I 
judge them by their trail, they are no more than three 
canoes, and we number enough not to di-ead such a 
handful of the enemy." We were, in fact, forty, for 
some other had joined us. 

We consequently urged on our way, but had scarcely 
advanced a mile, when we fell into an ambush of the 
enemy, who lay in two divisions on the opposite banks 
of the river, to the number of seventy in twelve canoes. 

As soon as we reached the spot where they lay in 
ambush, they poured in a volley of musketry from the 
reeds and tall grass, where they lurked. Our canoes 
were riddled, but, though well supplied with fire-arms, 
they killed none, one Huron only being shot through 
the hand. At the first report of the fire-arms, the 
Hurons, almost to a man, abandoned the canoes, which, 
to avoid the more rapid current of the centre of the 
river, were advancing close by the bank, and in head- 
long flight, plunged into the thickest of the woods. 
We, four Frenchmen, left with a few, either already 
Christians, or at least Catechumens, ofiering up a prayer 
to Christ, faced the enemy. We were, however, out- 
numbered, being scarcely twelve or fourteen against 
thirty ; yet we fought on, till our comrades, seeing fresh 



^0 PE'RILS OF THE 

canoes shoot out from the opposite bank of the river, 
lost heart and fled. Then a Frenchman named E-ene 
Goupil, who was fighting with the bravest, was taken 
with some of the Hurons. When I saw this, I neither 
could, nor cared to fly. Where, indeed, could I 
escape, barefooted as I was ? Conceal myself amid 
the reeds and tall grass, I could indeed, and thus 
escape; but could I leave a countryman, and the 
unchristened Hurons already taken or soon to be ? As 
the enemy, in hot pursuit of the fugitives, had passed 
on, leaving me standing on the battle-field, I called out 
to one of those who remained to guard the prisoners, 
and bade him make me a fellow captive to his French 
captive, that, as I had been his companion on the way, 
so would I be in his dangers and death. Scarce giving 
credit to what he heard, and fearful for himself, he 
advanced and led me to the other prisoners. 

Dearest brother, I then exclaimed, wonderfully hath 
God dealt with us ! " but he is the Lord, let him do 
what is good in his sight;" — 1 Kings iii. 18. "As 
it hath pleased him, so hath it come to pass, blessed be 
his name ; " then, hearing his confession, I gave him 
absolution. I now turned to the Huron prisoners, and, 
instructing them one by one, baptized them ; as new 
prisoners were constantly taken in their flight, my labor 
was constantly renewed. At length Eustace Ahatsistari, 
that famous Christian chief, was brought in ; when he 
saw me, he exclaimed, '^ Solemnly did I swear, brother, 
that I would live or die by thee." What I answered, 
I know not, so had grief overcome me. Last of all, 
William Couture was dragged in ; he too, had set out 
from Huronia with me. When he saw all in confusion. 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 21 

he had, with the rest, taken to the woods, and, being a 
young man endowed with great gifts in body as well as 
in mind, had, by his great agility, left the enemy far 
behind. "When he looked around and could see nothing 
•of me, " Shall I," he said to himself, "abandon my dear 
Father, a prisoner in the hands of savages, and fly with- 
out him ? Not I." Then returning by the path which 
he had taken in flight, he gave himself up to the enemy. 
Would that he had fled, nor swelled our mournful 
band ! for, in such a case, it is no comfort to have com- 
panions, especially those whom you love as yourself. 
Yet such are the souls, who, though but laymen, (with 
no views of earthly reward,) serve God and the Society 
among the Hurons. 

It is painful to think, even, of all his terrible suffer- 
ings. Their hate was enkindled against all the French, 
but especially against him, as they knew that one of 
their bravest had fallen by his hand in the fight. He 
was accordingly first stripped naked, all his nails torn 
out, his very fingers gnawed, and a broad-sword driven 
through his right hand. Mindful of the wounds of 
pur Lord Jesus Christ, he bore, as he afterwards told 
me, this pain, though most acute, with great joy. 

When I beheld him, thus bound and naked, I could 
not contain myself, but, leaving my keepers, I rushed 
through the midst of the savages who had brought him, 
embraced him most tenderly, exhorted him to offer all 
this to God for himself, and those at whose hands he 
suffered. They at first looked on in wonder at my 
proceedings ; then, as if recollecting themselves, and 
gathering all their rage, they fell upon me, and, with 
their fists, thongs, and a club, beat me till I fell sense- 



%2 PERILSOFTHE 

less. Two of them then dragged me back to wliere I 
had been before, and scarcely had I begun to breathe, 
when some others, attacking me, tore out, by biting, 
almost all my nails, and crunched my two fore-fingers 
with their teeth, giving me intense pain. The same 
was done to E-ene Goupil, the Huron captives beiug 
left untouched. 

When all had come in from the pursuit, in which 
two Hurons were killed, they carried us across the 
river, and there shared the plunder of the twelve canoes, 
(for eight had joined us.) This was very great, for, 
independent of what each Frenchman had with him, 
we had twenty packages containing church plate and 
vestments, books and other articles of the kind ; a rich 
cargo indeed, considering the poverty of our Huron 
mission. While they were dividing the plunder, I 
completed the instruction of such as were unchristened, 
and baptized them. Among the rest was one sere, 
octogenarian chief, who, when ordered to enter the 
canoe to be borne off with the rest, exclaimed, " How 
shall I, a hoary old man, go to a strange and foreign 
land? Never! here will I die." As he absolutely 
refused to go, they slew him on the very spot where he 
had just been baptized. 

Raising then a joyful shout which made the forest 
ring, " as conquerors who rejoice after taking a prey," 
( Isaias ix. 3, ) they bore us off, twenty -two captives, 
towards their own land ; three had been killed. By 
the favor of God our sufferings on that march, which 
lasted thii'teen* days, were indeed great — hunger, and 

* The Italian version of P. Bressani and the Latin, as given by Alegambe, 
say 88. The context suffices to correct this typographical fault, which is not 
in the Relation of 1646-7. 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 23 

heat, and menaces, the savage fury of tlie Indians, the 
intense pain of our untended and now putrefying 
wounds, swarming even with worms ; but no trial came 
harder upon me than when, five or six days after, they 
would come up to us, weary with the march, and in cold 
blood, with minds in no wise aroused by passion, pluck 
out pur hair and beard, and drive their nails, which are 
always very sharp, deep into parts most tender and sen- 
sitive to the slightest impression. But this was out- 
ward; my internal sufferings affected me still more 
when I beheld that funeral procession of doomed Chris- 
tians pass before my eyes, among them five old converts, 
the main pillars of the infant Huron church. 

Indeed, I ingenuously admit, that I was again and again 
unable to withold my tears, mourning over their lot and 
that of my other companions, and full of anxious solic- 
itude for the future. For I beheld the way to the 
Christian faith closed by these Iroquois, on the Hurons, 
and countless other nations, unless they were checked 
by some seasonable dispensation of Divine Providence. 

On the eighth day we fell in with a troop of two 
hundred Indians * going out to fight. And as it is the 
custom for the savages, when out on war parties, to 
initiate themselves as it were by cruelty, under the 
belief that their success will be greater as they shall 
have been more cruel, they thus received us. First 
rendering thanks to the sun, which they imagine presides 
over war, they congratulated their countrymen by a joy- 
ful volley of musketry. Each then cut off some stout 
clubs in the neighboring wood in order to receive us. 

* This was on an island in Lake Champlain. Here the Latin text inserts 
gome details not in the MS. of 1652. 



M PERILSOFTHE 

When, therefore, we landed from the canoes, they fell 
upon us from both sides with their clubs, with such 
fury, that I, who was the last, and therefore most exposed 
to their blows, sank, overcome by their number and 
severity, before I had accomplished half the rocky way 
that led to the hill on which a stage had been erected 
for us. I thought I should soon die there ; and so, 
partly because I could not, partly because I cared not, 
I did not arise. How long they spent their fury on 
me, he knows for whose love and sake I suffered all, 
and for whom it is delightful and glorious to suffer. — 
Moved at length by a cruel mercy, and wishing to carry 
me into their country alive, they refrained from beating 
me. And, thus half dead, and drenched in blood, they 
bore me to the stage. I had scarce begun to breathe, 
when they ordered me to come down, to load me with 
scoffs and insults, and countless blows on my head and 
shoulders, and indeed on my whole body. I should be 
tedious were I to attempt to tell all that the French 
prisoners suffered. They burnt one of my fingers, and 
crunched another with their teeth ; others already thus 
mangled, they so wrenched by the tattered nerve, that, 
even now, though healed, they are frightfully deformed. 
Nor indeed was the lot of my fellow-sufferers much 
better. 

But one thing showed that God watched over us, and 
was trying us rather than casting us off. One of these 
savages, breathing nought but blood and cruelty, came 
up to me, scarce able to stand on my feet, and, seizing 
my nose with one hand, prepared to cut it off with a 
large knife which he held in the other. What could 
I do ? Believing that I was soon to be burnt at the 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 25 

Stake, unmoved, I awaited the stroke, groaning to my 
God in heart ; when stayed, as if by a supernatural 
power, he drew back his hand in the very act of cutting. 
About a quarter of an hour after, he returned, and as if 
condemning his cowardice and faint-heartedness, again 
prepared to do it; when again held back by some 
unseen hand, he departed. Had he carried out his 
design, my fate was sealed, for it is not their custom 
to grant life to captives thus mutilated. At length, late 
at night, and last of all, I was taken to my captors, 
without receiving a morsel of food, which I had scarcely 
touched for several days. The rest of the night I spent 
in great pain. 

My sufferings, great in themselves, were heightened 
by the sight of what a like cruelty had wreaked on the 
Christian Hurons, fiercer than all in the case of Eustace ; 
for they had cut off both his thumbs, and, through the 
stump of his left, with savage cruelty, they drove a 
sharp stake to his very elbow. This frightful pain he 
bore most nobly and piously. 

The following day we fell in with some other war- 
canoes, who cut off some of our companions' fingerSj 
amid our great dread. 

At last, on the tenth day, about noon, we left our 
canoes, and performed on foot, the rest of the journey, 
which lasted four days. Besides the usual hardships of 
the march, now came that of carrying the baggage. 
[Although my share of this was done quite remissly, 
both because I was unable, and because I disdained to 
do it, for my spirit was haughty, even in fetters and 
death ; so that only a small package was given me to 
bear.] We were now racked by hunger, from the ever* 

8 



^6 PERILS OF THE 

increasing want of food. Tlins^ tkree days in succession, 
(and when, on the fourth, we were met by a party from 
the village,) we tasted nothing but some berries, once 
gathered on the way. [For my part, I had, in the 
beginning of the march, neglected to avail myself of 
the food which our canoes had supplied abundantly, 
that I might not ofPer to their fire and torture, a strong 
and vigorous frame, for I ingenuously confess my weak- 
ness ; and when my body worn down by fasting called 
for food, it found nothing but water ; for, on the second 
day, when we halted, weary with our march, they set 
a large kettle on the fire as if to prepare food ; but it 
was merely to enable us to drink as much as each chose 
of the water thus slightly warmed.] 

At last, on the eve of the Assumption * of the Blessed 
Virgin, we reached the first village of the Iroquois. I 
thank our Lord Jesus Christ, that, on the day when the 
whole Christian world exults in the glory of his Mother's 
Assumption into heaven, he called us to some small 
share and fellowship of his sufferings and cross. In- 
deed, we had during the journey always foreseen that 
it would be a sad and bitter day for us. It would have 
been easy for Kene and myself to escape that day and 
the flames, for, being unbound and often at a distance 
from 'our guards, we might, in the darkness of night, 
have struck off from the road, and even though we 
should never reach our countrymen, we would at least 
meet a less cruel death in the woods. He constantly 
refused to do this, and I was resolved to suffer all that 
could befall me, rather than forsake, in death, French- 

* F. Bressani and Alegajnbo say 18th, the MS. of 1662 says simply, Vigi- 
lia Assumptionia, which ca^ only be the 14th or 18th, 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 27 

men and Christian Huron s, depriving them of the 
consolation which a priest can afford. 

On the Eve of the Assumption then about 3 o'clock 
we reached a river which flows by their village. Both 
banks were filled with Iroquois and Hurons formerly cap- 
turedj now coming forth to meet us, the latter to salute 
us by a warning that we were to be burnt alive ; the for- 
mer received us with clubs, fists and stones. 

And as baldness or thin hair, a shaved, or lightly cov- 
ered head is an object of their aversion, this tempest burst 
in its fury on my bare head. Two of my nails had hith- 
erto escaped ; these they tore out with their teeth, and 
with their keen nails stripped off the flesh beneath to the 
very bones. When satisfied with the cruelties and 
mockeries which we thus received by the river side, they 
led us to their village on the top of the hill. 

At its entrance we met the youth of all that district 
awaiting us with clubs, in a line on each side of the road. 

Conscious that, if we withdrew ourselves from the 
ranks of those chastised, we no less withdrew ourselves 
from that of the children, we cheerfully offered ourselves 
to our God, thus like a father chastising us, that in us he 
might be well pleased. Our order was as follows : in 
the front of the line they placed a Frenchman, alas, 
entirely naked, not having even his drawers. Rene 
Goupil was in the centre, and I last of all closed the line, 
(we were more fortunate as they had left us our shirts 
and drawers.) The Iroquois scattered themselves 
through our lines between us and the Hurons, both to 
check our speed, and to afford more time and ease to our 
torturers, to strike us thus separately as we passed. 
Long and cruelly indeed did the " wicked work upon my 



£8 PERILS OF THE 

back/' (Ps. cxxviii. 3,) not with clubs merely, but even 
with iron rods, which they have in abundance from their 
proximity to the Europeans ; * one of the first, armed 
with a ball of iron of the size of a fist, slung to a thong, 
dealt me so violent a blow that I should have fallen 
senseless, had not fear of a second given me strength 
and courage. Running then our long race amid this 
fearful hail of blows, we with difficulty reached the 
stage erected in the centre of the village. 

If each here presented a face to excite compassion, 
that of Eene was certainly the most pitiable. Being by 
no means quick or active, he had received so many 
blows all over his body, but especially on his face, that 
nothing could be distinguished there but the white of 
his eyes ; more beautiful truly as he more resembled 
him, whom we have beheld " as a leper, and smitten by 
God for us," "in whom there was no comeliness or 
beauty." — Isaias liii. 2. 

We had but just time to gain breath on 'this stage, 
when one with a huge club gave us Frenchmen three 
terrible blows on the bare back ; the savages now took 
out their knives and began to mount the stage and cut 
ofi" the fingers of many of the prisoners ; and, as a cap- 
tive undergoes their cruelty in proportion to his dignity, 
they began with me, seeing, by my conduct, as well as 
by their words, that I was in authority among the 
French and Hurons. Accordingly, an old man and a 
woman approached the spot where I stood ; he com- 
manded his companion to cut off my thumb ; she at first 

* The Dutch, who then had two forts, where they kept a continual trade; 
New Amsterdam, now New York, and Renssalaerwick, or Port Orange, now 
Albany, about ten or twelve leagues from the first village of the Mohawks. 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. JSJU 

drew back, but at last, when ordered to do so three or four 
times by the old wretch, as if by compulsion she cut ojff 
my left thumb where it joins the hand. [ She was an 
Algonquin, that is, one of that nation which dwells near 
the French, in New France ; she had been captured a 
few months before, and was a Christian. Her name 
was Jane. Surely it is pleasing to suffer at the hands 
of those for whom you would die, and for whom you 
chose to suffer the greatest torment rather than leave 
them exposed to the cruelty of visible and invisible ene- 
mies. ] 

Then, taking in my other hand the amputated thumb, 
I offered it to thee, my true and living God, calling to 
mind the sacrifice which I had for seven years con- 
stantly offered thee in thy Church. At last, warned by 
one of my comrades to desist, since they might other- 
wise force it into my mouth and compel me to eat it as 
it was, I flung it from me on the scaffold and left it I 
know not where. 

Rene had his right thumb cut off at the first joint. 
I must thank the Almighty that it was his will that my 
right should be untouched, thus enabling me to write 
this letter to beg my dear fathers and brothers to offer 
up their masses, prayers, supplications and entreaties in 
the holy church of God, to which we know that we are 
now entitled by a new claim, for she often prays for the 
afflicted and the captive. 

On the following day, the Assumption of the Blessed 
Virgin, after spending the morning on the stage, we 
were taken about mid-day to ant)ther village, some two 
miles distant from the first. As I was on the point of 
marching, the Indian who had brought me, loth to lose 

8^ 



30 . PERILS OF THE 

my shirt, sent me off naked, except an old and wretched 
pair of drawers. When I beheld myself thus stripped, 
" Surely, brother," said I, " thou wilt not send me off thus 
naked, thou hast taken enough of our property to 
enrich thee." This touched him, and he gave me 
enough of the hempen bagging in which our packages 
had been put up, to cover my shoulders and part of my 
body. But my shoulders, mangled by their blows and 
stripes, could not bear this rough and coarse cloth. On 
the way, while scarcely and at last not at all covered by 
it, the heat of the sun was so intense, that my skin was 
dried as though in an oven, and peeled off from my 
back and arms. 

As we entered the second village, blows were not 
spared, though this is contrary to their usual custom, 
which is to be content with once bastinadoing the pris- 
oners. The Almighty surely wished us to be somewhat 
likened in this point to his apostle, who glories that he 
was thrice beaten with rods ; and although they received 
us with fewer blows than the last, their blows were the 
more cruel, since, being less embarrassed by the crowd, 
they were better aimed ; some striking constantly on the 
shins to our exquisite pain. 

The rest of the day we spent on the stage, and the 
night in a hut tied down half naked to the bare ground, 
at the mercy of all ages and sexes. For we had been 
handed over to the sport of the children and youth who 
threw hot coals on our naked bodies, which, bound as we 
were, it was no easy matter to throw off. In this manner 
they make their apprenticeship in cruelty, and from less, 
grow accustomed to greater. We spent there two days 
and nights with scarcely any food or sleep, in great an- 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 31 

guish of mind as far as I was concerned. For, from time 
to time, they mounted the stage, cutting off the fingers 
of my Huron companions, binding hard cords around 
their fists with such violence, that they fainted, and, while 
each of them suffered but his own pain, I suffered that 
of all ; I was afflicted with as intense grief as you can 
imagine a father's heart to feel at the sight of his children's 
misery ; for, with the exception of a few old Christians, 
I had begotten them all recently in Christ by baptism. 

Yet amid all this the Lord gave me such strength that, 
suftering myself, I was able to console the suffering 
Hurons and French. So that, both on the road and on 
the stage, when the tormenting crowd of "saluters," 
(for so they call those who wreak their cruelty on the 
captives as they arrive,) had dropped away, I exhorted 
them, at one time generally, at another individually, to 
preserve their patience, nor lose confidence which would 
have a great reward; to remember "that, by many 
tribulations it behooves us to enter the kingdom of 
heaven ; " that the time was come indeed, foretold to us 
by God, when he said : " Ye shall lament and weep, but 
the world shall rejoice, but your sorrow shall be turned 
into joy ; " that we were like to a ^^ a woman in travail, 
who, when she brings forth, hath sorrow, because her 
hour is come ; but, when she has brought forth, no lon- 
ger remembers her anguish for joy that a man is born 
into the world; " (John xvi. 21;) so should they feel 
assured that, in a few days, these momentary pains would 
give place to never-ending joys. And surely I had rea- 
son to rejoice when I beheld them so well disposed, 
especially the older Christians, Joseph,* Eustace,t and 

* Tondechoren. t Ahatsistari. 



S2 PERILSOFTHE 

the other two ; for^ on the very day that we reached the 
first village, Theodore had freed himself from his bonds ; 
but, as during the battle he had had his shoulder blade 
broken by the but-end of a musket, he died on his way 
to the French. 

Never till now had the Indian scaffold beheld French 
or other Christians captives. So that, contrary to usual 
custom, we were led around through all their villages to 
gratify the general curiosity. The third, indeed, we 
entered scathless, but on the scaffold a scene met my 
eyes more heart-rending than any torment ; it was a group 
of four Hurons, taken elsewhere by some other party, 
and dragged here to swell our wretched company. 
Among other cruelties every one of these had lost some 
fingers, and the eldest of the band his two thumbs. 
Joining these, I at once began to instruct them, separate- 
ly, on the articles of faith ; then, on the very stage itself, 
I baptized two, with rain-drops gathered from the leaves 
of a stalk of Indian corn, given us to chew ; the other 
two, I christened as we were led by a stream on our way 
to another village. At this place, cold setting in after 
the rain, we suffered extremely from it, as we were en- 
tirely uncovered. Often shivering with cold on the 
stage, I would without orders come down and enter 
some hut, but I had scarcely begun to warm myself 
when I was commanded to return to the scaffold. 

William Couture had thus far lost none of his fin- 
gers ; this, exciting the displeasure of an Indian in this 
village, he sawed off the fore finger of his right hand in 
the middle ; the pain was most excruciating as for this 
amputation he employed not a knife, but in its stead a 
kind of shell, there very abundant. As it could not cut 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 66 

the sinews which, were hard and slippery, he wrenched 
the finger so violently, that, when the sinews gave way, 
the poor fellow's arm swelled fearfully up to the very 
elbow. An Indian, touched by mercy, took him to his 
hut and kept him there two days which we spent in that 
village ; leaving me in ignorance and great anxiety as to 
his fate. 

At nightfall, we were taken to a hut where the youth 
awaited us. They ordered us to sing as other captives 
are wont to do ; we at last complied, for alas, what else 
could we do ? but we sang the " Canticles of the Lord 
in a strange land. " Torture followed the chanting, and 
its fury burst especially on Rene and myself, for the good 
savage still kept William in his hut. Accordingly, on 
me, and especially on Rene, they threw hot ashes and 
live coals, burning him terribly in the breast. 

They next hung me up between two poles in the hut, 
tied by the arms above the elbow with coarse rope woven 
of the bark of trees. Then I thought I was to be burnt, 
for this is one of their usual preliminaries. And that I 
might know that, if I had thus far borne anything with 
fortitude or even with patience, these came not from 
myself, but from Him who gives strength to the weary ; 
now, as though left to myself in tins torture, I groaned 
aloud, for ^* I will glory in my infirmities that the pow- 
er of Christ may dwell in me," (2 Cor. xii. 9,) and from 
my intense pain, I begged my torturers to ease me some 
little from those hard, rough ropes. But God justly 
ordained that the more I pleaded, the more tightly they 
drew my chains. At last when I had been hanging 
thus about a quarter of an hour, they unloosed me as I 
was on the point of fainting. I render thee thanks, O 



34 PERILS OF THE 

Lord Jesus, that I have been allowed to learn, by some 
slight experience, bow much thou didst deign to suffer 
on the cross for me, when the whole weight of thy most 
sacred body hung not by ropes, but by thy hands and 
feet pierced by hardest nails ! Other chains followed 
these, for we were tied to the ground to p^ss the rest of 
the night. "What did they not then do to my poor 
Huron companions thus tied hand and foot ? What did 
they not attempt on me ? But once more I thank thee. 
Lord, that thou didst save me, thy priest, ever unsullied 
from the impure hands of the savages. When we had 
thus spent two days in that village, we were led back to 
the second which we had entered, that our fate might 
be finally determined. 

We had now been for seven days led from village to 
village, from scaffold to scaffold, become a spectacle to 
God and to his angels, as we may hope from his divine 
goodness ; a scoff and jeer to the vilest savages, when 
we were at last told that that day should end our lives 
amid the flames. Though, in sooth, this last act was not 
without its horrors, yet the good pleasure of God and 
the hope of a better life subject to no sin rendered it 
more one of joy. Then, addressing my French and 
Huron companions as it were for the last time, I bid 
them be of good heart, amid theii' mental and bodily 
sufferings to think " diligently upon him that had 
endured such opposition of sinners against himself not 
to be weary, fainting in their minds," ( Heb. xii. 3, ) 
but to hope that the morrow would unite us to our God 
to reign forever. 

Fearing lest we might be torn from one another, I 
especially advised Eustace to look towards me when we 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 35 

cx)uld not be together, and by placing his hands on his 
breast and raising his eyes to heaven to show his contri- 
tion for his sins, so that I could absolve him, as I had 
already frequently done after hearing his confession on 
the way, and after our arrival. As advised, he several 
times made the signal. 

The sachems, however, on further deliberation, 
resolved, that no precipitate step was to be taken with 
regard to the French, and, when they had summoned us 
before the council, they declared that our lives were 
spared. To almost all the Hurons likewise they granted 
their lives : three were excepted, Paul, Eustace and Ste- 
phen, who were put to death in the three villages which 
make up the tribe ; Stephen in the village where we 
were, known as Andagoron, Paul in Ossernenon, and 
Eustace in Teonontogen. The last was burned in 
almost every part of his body and then beheaded ; he 
bore all most piously, and while it is usual for dying 
captives to cry out : 

" Exoriatur nostris ex ossibus ultor," 
*' May an avenger arise from our ashes," 

he, on the contrary, in the Christian spirit which he had 
so deeply imbibed in baptism, implored his countrymen 
standing around, not to let any feeling for his fate pre- 
vent the concluding of a peace with the Iroquois. Paul 
Ononhoratoon, who, after going through the usual fiery 
ordeal was tomahawked in the village of Ossernenon, 
was a young man of about twenty -five, full of life and 
courage ; for such they generally put to death, to sap as 
it were the life-blood of the hostile tribe. With a 
noble contempt of death arising, as he openly professed 



36 PERILS OF THE 

on tlie way, from his hope of a better life, this generous 
man had repeatedly, when the Iroquois came up to me 
to tear out my nails, or inflict some other injury, offered 
himself to them, begging them to leave me and turn 
their rage on him. May the Lord return him a hun- 
dred fold with usury for that heroic charity, which led 
him to give his life for his friends, and for those who 
had begotten him in Christ in bondage ! 

Towards evening of that day they carried off "Wil- 
liam Couture, whom they regarded as a young man of 
unparalleled courage, to Teonontogen, the farthest vil- 
lage of their territory, and gave him to an Indian fam- 
ily. It is the custom of these savages, when they spare 
a prisoner's hfe, to adopt him into some family to supply 
the place of a deceased member, to whose rights he in 
a manner succeeds ; he is subject thenceforward to no 
man's orders except those of the head of that family, 
who, to acquire this right, offers some presents. But 
seeing that Rene and I were less vigorous, they led us 
to the first village, the residence of the party that had 
captured us, and left us there till some new resolution 
should be taken. 

After so many a long day spent fasting, after so many 
sleepless nights, after so many wounds and stripes, and 
especially after such heart-rending anguish of mind, 
when at last time was, so to speak, given us to feel our 
sufferings, we sank into a state of helplessness, scarce able 
to walk, or even stand erect : neither night nor day brought 
a moment of repose ; this resulted from many causes, 
but chiefly from our still untended wounds ; this state 
was rendered more trying by the myriads of lice, fleas 
and bedbugs, of which the maimed and mutilated state 



OCEAlSr AND WILDERNESS. 37 

of our fingers did not permit us to clear our persons. 
Besides this, we suffered from hunger; more truly 
here than elsewhere is the saying, 

" Cibufl non utilis aegro." 

" Food is hurtful to the sick." 

So that, with nothing to add to their American corn, 
(which in Europe we call Turkish,) carelessly bruised 
between two stones, but unripe squashes, we were 
brought to the brink of the grave ; and Rene, especially, 
whose stomach refused this food, and who, from his 
many wounds, had almost lost his sight. 

The Indians then, seeing us fail day by day, hunted 
up in the village some small fishes and some bits of 
meat dried by the fire and sun, and, pounding these, 
mixed them with our sagamity. 

After three weeks, we were just recovering from our 
illness when they sought to put us to death. 

The two hundred Indians who had maltreated us so 
on the way, advanced into New France, to the point 
where the River Iroquois, so called from them, empties 
into the great river St. Lawrence ; here, seeing a party 
of the French engaged in laying the foundations of 
Fort Richelieu,* they thought they could easily kill 
some and carry ofF the rest as prisoners. Accordingly, 
to the number of two hundred, in a single column and 
almost all armed with muskets, they rushed almost 
unexpected upon the whites engaged in the various 

* This fort was begun on the 13th of August, 1642, at the place now 
called Sorel, and must not be confounded with the one built by Champlain 
under that name in 1634, on the Isle of St. Croix, 15 leagues above Quebec, 
and which soon disappeared. 



38 PERILSOFTHE 

works. At the first onset of tlie foe, the French, though 
but a handful compared to the number of the savages, 
flew to arms, and so bravely and successfully repulsed 
their fierce assailants, that, after killing two, and wound- 
ing many more, they put the rest to flight. The wax 
party returned furious, and, as though they had been 
greatly wronged who had gone forth to do wrong, 
demanded the death of those of us who were yet alive. 
They asserted it to be a shame that three Frenchmen 
should live quietly among them when they had so lately 
slain three Iroquois. By these complaints, Rene's 
safety, especially, and my own, were in great jeopardy. 
He alone, who, as he gave, protecteth life, warded off 
the blow. 

On the eve of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin, one 
of the principal Hollanders, who have a settlement not 
more than twenty leagues* from these Indians, came 
with two others,t to endeavor to efiect our liberation. 
He remained there several days, offered much, promised 
more, obtained nothing. But, as they are a wily and 
cunning race of savages, in order not to appear to refuse 
all that a friend asked, but to concede something to his 
desires, they lyingly asserted that they would, in a few 
days, restore us to our countrymen. This was, perhaps, 
the wish of some of them, but, in the latter part of Sep- 
tember ; (for constant rain had put the matter off till 
that time,) a final council was held on our fate, although 

* We leave this, although we cannot reconcile it with distances elsewhere 
given. 

t These were Arends Van Curler, Jacob Jansen, and John Labadie. Van 
Curler, the Corlear of history, then commanding the post, generously offered 
260 piastres as a ransom for the French. 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 39 

provisions had been prepared and men appointed to 
take us back. Here the opinion of tbe few well inclined 
was rejected. Confusion carried the day, and some 
clamorous chiefs declared that they would never suffer 
a Frenchman to be taken back alive. The council broke 
up in alarm, and each, as if in flight, returned home, 
even those who came from other villages. Left thus to 
the cruelty of bloodthirsty men, attempts were constantly 
made on our lives. Some, tomahawk in hand, prowled 
around the cabins to find and despatch us. However, 
towards the close of the council, God had inspired me 
with some thought that induced me to draw my com- 
panions together without the village in a field belong- 
ing to the house where I was ; here, ignorant of what 
had transpired, we lay hid as it were in safety, until the 
storm, beneath which we should all have fallen, had we 
remained in the village, was somewhat calmed.. 

William was, after this, taken back by his master, to 
his own village ; Rene and I, perceiving that there was 
now no hope of our return, withdrew to a neighboring 
hill, which commands the village, in order to pray. 
Here, remote from every witness, and from all officious 
intrusion, we resigned ourselves entirely to God and to 
his holy will ; on our road back to the village, we were 
reciting our beads, and had already completed four 
decades of the rosary, when we met two young men 
who commanded us to return to the village. " Dear 
brother," said I, "we know not what may be, in 
this period of general excitement, the design of these 
men. Let us commend ourselves earnestly to God, 
and to the most Blessed Virgin, our good Mother." 
We had reached the village in prayer, when, at its 



40 TEUILS OF THE 

Yory entrance, one of the two whom we had met, pluck- 
ing forth his tomahaM'k which was concealed in his 
dress, cUwlt Kone so deadly a blow on the head, that 
he fell lilVless. invoking the most holy name of Jesus 
as he fell. A\'e had happily, mindful of the indul- 
gence thereby gained, often reminded each other to 
close our life by uttering, with our dying voice, that 
most holy name. 

At the sight o{ the reeking hatchet, I knelt dovm. 
on the spot, and, uncovering my head, awaited a like 
blow. But, when I had been there a moment or two, 
they bade me rise, as they had no right to kill me, for I 
was the slave of another family. Eising then in haste, 
I ran to my still breathing companion, and conferred- 
absolution, which I was in the habit of giving him 
after his confession every other day ; then two other 
blows, dealt before my very face, added him to the 
number of the blessed. He was thirty-five years of 
age, eminent for his simplicity of manners, his inno- 
cence of life, his patience in adversity, entirely sub- 
missive to God, whom he, in all things, regarded as 
present before his eyes, and resigned to his most holy 
Avill in love, ^lost worthy is he, Eeverend Father, 
to be counted among thy children, not only because 
he had spent several months in one of the novitiates 
o( the Society, in a most editying manner, and had 
afterwards, by the command of Superiors, to whom he 
gave the entire disposal of his life, proceeded to Huro- 
nia, to aid the Chriistian population by his medical 
knowledge, but especially does he merit it from the fact, 
that, a few days before his death, impelled by a desire 
of uniting himself more closely to God, he pronounced 



OCEAN AND WILDEENESS. 41 

the usual vows of the Society to subject himself to it 
as far as in him lay. And certain it is ihat, in life as 
in death, where his last word was the most holy name 
of Jesus, he had proved himself no unworthy son of the 
Society. Nay, I not only love him as a brother, but 
revere him as a martyr — martyr to obedience, and still 
more, a martyr to the faith and to the cross. As he was 
very pious, and accustomed to be with the Christians, 
or such as were most intimate with our Christians, he 
daily spent a long time in prayer, to the wonder and 
even suspicion of the savages, so novel did it seem to 
them. These suspicions were confirmed in their minds 
when one day, taking off the cap of a child in the hut 
where he lived, he made him make a sign of the cross 
on his breast and forehead; for a superstitious old 
Indian, the grandfather of the boy, seeing this, ordered 
him to be killed. This I afterwards learned from the 
boy's mother, who told me that he had been killed 
by the old man for that reason. 

But to resume my narrative : after I had been seated 
a little while in our hut, where my life had been pretty 
quiet, I was taken to another, the hut of him who had 
cut off my thumb, a most bitter enemy of the Algon- 
quins, and consequently of the French. Here, not I 
alone, but the other Iroquois, every moment expected 
to see me tomahawked. Accordingly, some who had 
given me articles of clothing, that I might, in part at 
least, cover my person, now asked them back, for fear 
of losing them by my death. 

The next day, I was filled with the greatest anxiety 
to know what had become of my dear companion, that 
I resolved to look for his body at all hazards, and com- 



42 PERILS OF THE 

mlt it, if possible, to the earth. After stripping it 
entirely, they had contemptuously tied a rope around 
the neck, and di-agging it through the village, had flung 
it into a ravine at a considerable distance. As I "was 
going out of the village, I met the old man in whose 
hut I had formerly been ; he advised me to stay at 
home. " Whither art thou hurrying ?" he exclaimed, 
" thou art scarce alive ; they seek thee everywhere to 
slay thee, and yet thou goest to find an already putrefy- 
ing corpse ; dost thou not see those fierce young braves, 
who are about to kill thee ? " Some, in fact, went out 
of the village armed, just before me ; but I fearlessly 
pursued my way ; for, in my bitter anguish, it was a 
pain to live, a gain to die in such a work of charity. 
When the old man saw me so resolute, he asked an- 
other Indian to go with me. By his assistance, I found 
the body, which the dogs had begun to gnaw about the 
hips, and, sinking it in the deepest part of the torrent, 
covered it with a heap of stones, intending to return 
the next day with a spade, and bury it secretly and 
alone, for I was afraid they would disinter it. 

As I re-entered our hut, two young men were waiting 
to take me to their village to put me to death. Aware 
of their design, I told them that I was in the hands of 
those with whom I lived, that if they gave the slightest 
consent, I would accompany them, and would in fact 
have done so. Seeing that they gained nothing in this 
way, the next day one of them who, at the time of our 
capture, had been wounded with his brother, seeing me 
in the field whither I had gone to execute some order 
of my owners, seized a hatchet and was rushing on me 
to kill me, when he was stopped by an old man of our 



OCEAN AND WILDEKNESS. 43 

family, and prevented from accomplisliing his design. 
Thus did the Almighty teach me " to cast all my solici- 
tude on him," knowing that he hath care of me, and that 
I should not fear the face of a man when the Almighty 
was the protector of my life, without whose permission 
not a hair could fall from my head. 

As I could not that day accomplish my design, early 
the next morning I proceeded to the spot with a spade 
or hoe to inter the body, but alas, they had carried off 
my brother. I returned to the spot ; I descended the 
mount at the foot of which the torrent ran ; I descended 
again ; I searched the wood on the opposite side, — all, 
all in vain. The torrent ran swollen by the night rains, 
but, unrestrained by either its depth or the cold, for it 
"was the first of October, I tried the bottom with my 
stick and feet, as I thought that the stream might have 
borne it to another spot ; I asked all whom I met, 
whether they knew anything of him ; but as they are a 
most lying race, and always give an affirmative answer 
without regard to truth, they falsely told me that he had 
been dragged to a quite distant river.* What groans did 
I not utter then ! What tears did I not shed, mingling 
them with the waters of that mountain stream, chanting 
to thee, my God, the psalms thy holy Church employs 
in the service of the dead ! 

When, however, the snows had melted away, I heard 
from the young men that they had seen the scattered 
bones of the Frenchman. Hurrying to the spot, I gath- 
ered up the half-gnawed bones, the remnants left by the 

* This river was evidently the Mohawk, and the town Andagoron lay near 
a stream running into it. Andagoron or Gandagoron, was afterwards called 
Gandawague, now written Caughnawaga. 



44 PERILS OF THE 

dogs, the foxes and the crows, and especially tlie skujl 
fractured in many places ,• these reverently kissing, I 
committed to the earth, that I might, one day, if such 
were God's will, bear with me as a great treasure to a 
consecrated Christian land. 

From many other dangers, which I knew and knew 
not, did the Lord rescue me, in spite of all the ill will 
and hate of the Iroqwois, unwilling and furious as the 
Iroquois were. But the following I should not omit. 
There was in our cabin an idiot who asked me to let him 
cut off two hands' breadth from a wretched bit of cloth 
not seven palms long, yet all that I had to cover me. 
Brother ! said I, you see me shivering every night under 
this short thin covering ; yet do as thou wilt. My 
modest excuse offended him, and when soon after I went 
to the huts of the baptized Hurons, whom I daily 
instucted and bore again till Christ should be formed in 
them, (Gal. iv. 19,) he came in search of me, and fiercely 
bade me return. When I had entered our cabin, Eene's 
murderer was sent for, that the same hand might end 
both our lives ; they looked for him in vain, he could 
not be found. I was accordingly sent the next day into 
a field of my master's with two women, under the pretext 
of bringing back some article or other, but in fact to 
expose me to death ; for, two days before, the only son 
of one of their noble women had died in our cabin, and 
I was to be sacrificed to his manes. 

These women had with them the squashes, corn and 
other articles of the kind which were to be the fee of my 
executioner. " But I, like a deaf man, heard not " the 
vain things they devised, " and like a dumb man opened 
not my mouth, and I became like a man that heareth not. 



OCEA.N AND WILDERNESS. 45 

nor hatb. a reply in his mouth, " (Ps. xxxvii. 14,) 
" because in thee, O Lord, have I hoped ; " but, mindful 
of his meekness '^ who was led like a lamb to the slaugh- 
ter, " (Acts viii. 32,) I went to my death, begging the 
Lord with David " to turn away evil from my enemies 
and scatter them in his truth." — Ps. liii. 7. About 
midway we met the looked-for murderer ; seeing him 
coming at a distance, I commended myself for the last 
time to God, begging him to receive my life spent with 
care and anguish ; but my sins still rendered me unwor- 
thy. He passed quietly by us, and meeting his mother, 
she addressed some words, of what import I know not, 
to those who conducted me ; on this, trembling and flee- 
ing as it were, they left me in the road, for they saw 
that I was aware of their design. 

Amid this frequent fear and death, while every day I 
die, or rather drag on a life more bitter than any death, 
two months glided away. During this time I made no 
effort to learn their language, for why should I, who 
every moment expected to die ? The village was a prison 
for me. I avoided being seen. I loved the wild wood, 
where I begged the Lord not to disdain to speak to his 
servant, to give me strength in such fearful trials, in 
which, indeed, if I have become a prodigy to many, God 
was my stout Helper, and often by his unfailing goodness 
roused my drooping spirits. I had recourse to the Holy 
Scriptures, my only refuge in the tribulations, which 
had found me exceedingly : these did I venerate ; with 
these I wished to die. Of all the books which we were 
carrying to Huronia for the use of the Frenchmen living 
there, none had fallen into my hands but the Epistle of 
St. Paul to the Hebrews^ with the paraphrase of the Et. 



46 PERILSOFTHB 

Rev. Anthony Godeau^ Bishop of Gratz. This little 
book, with a picture of St. Bruno, the illustrious founder 
of the Carthusian Order, to which some indulgences were 
attached, and a rude wooden cross which I had made, I 
always carried about me, so that, whenever death, which 
J had ever present before my eyes, should strike me 
down, I could most cheerfully die with the Holy Scrip- 
tures which had ever been my greatest consolation, with 
the graces and indulgences of my most holy Mother the 
Church, whom I had always greatly, but now most ten- 
derly, loved, and with the cross of my Lord and Savior. 

And now the middle of October was come when the 
Indians leave their villages to go and hunt deer, which 
they take by traps, or kill with their guns, in the use of 
which they are very skilful. This season, to the Indians 
one of relaxation and enjoyment, brought its new burden 
of sorrows for me ; for I was given to a party, who were 
first amazed at me, then ridiculed, and at last began to 
hate me. 

Mindful of the character imposed upon me by God, 
I began with modesty to discourse with them of the 
adoration of one only God, of the observance of his com- 
mandments, of heaven, hell, and the other mysteries of 
our Faith, as fully as I was able. At first, indeed, they 
listened, but when they saw me constantly recur to these 
things, and especially when the chase did not meet with 
the desired success, then they declared that I was an 
Otkon,* who caused them to take so little game. But 
what turned their ill-will into perfect rage and fury, so 
to speak, was this : It is a custom with all these nations 
to have recourse, in their hunting, fishing, war, sickness, 
♦ Demon. 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 47 

and the like, to a certain demon whom they call Aireskoi. 
Whoever desires his fishing, hunting, or other expe- 
ditions to be successful, takes meat, and other of the 
better articles of food, and begs the oldest of the house 
or village to bless them for him, if I may use the term ; 
and there are some to whose blessings they attach more 
value than to others. The old man, standing opposite 
the one that holds the meat, in a loud and distinct voice, 
speaks thus : " O, demon Aireskoi, behold, we offer this 
meat to thee, and from it we prepare thee a banquet, 
that thou mayest eat thereof, and show us where the 
deer are lurking, mayest lead them into our traps ; " — 
(if not during the chase) — " that by thee we may again 
behold the spring, taste the new harvest, and again 
engage in the chase in the fall ; " — (if in illness) — 
*' that by these we may recover health." 

The very first time I heard a formula couched in such, 
words, I was filled with a deep detestation of this sav- 
age superstition, and firmly resolved to abstain forever 
from meats thus ofiered. They interpreted this absti- 
nence on my part, and this contempt of their demon, as 
the cause of their taking so little game ; " the wicked 
have hated me without cause." — John xv. 25. As, 
under the influence of this hate, they would neither 
listen to my instructions, nor help me to acquire their 
language, in which I refuted their fables, I resolved to 
devote my time entirely to spiritual exercises. Accord- 
ingly, I went forth every morning from the midst of 
this Babylon, that is, our hut where constant worship 
was paid to the devil and to dreams, and " saved myself 
in the mountain," (Genesis xix. 17,) a neighboring hill. 
Here I had formed a large cross on a majestic tree by 



48 PERILS OF THE 

Stripping off the bark, and, at its foot, I spent tlie whole 
day with my God, whom, almost alone in those vast 
regions, I worshipped and loved ; sometimes in medi- 
tation or in prayer, at other times reading an " Imita- 
tion of Christ," which I had just before recovered. This 
for some time was unperceived ; but, on one occasion, 
finding me, as was my wont, in prayer before my cross, 
they attacked me most violently, saying that they hated 
the cross ; that it was a sign that they and their friends 
the neighbors, (Europeans,) knew not, alluding to the 
Dutch Protestants. 

Upon this, I changed my conduct, and whereas I had 
before carefully avoided praying or kneeling in their 
hut, that I might not give them the slightest reason to 
complain, (for we should, especially among savages, 
but little accustomed to such things, act in all prudence,) 
I now conceived that I should no longer refrain from 
those pious exercises which make up a spiritual life, a 
life I far preferred to my temporal one. This I be- 
lieved would be serviceable to them when the moment 
of their conversion should come, " which the Father 
hath put in his own power." — Acts i. 7. 

While thus an object of their enmity, I certainly suf- 
fered much from hunger and cold, the contempt of the 
lowest of the men, the bitter hatred of their women. 

The latter, who are the greatest gainers by the hunt- 
ing season, regarded me as the cause of their want and 
poverty. 1 suffered most from hunger ; for, as almost 
all the venison on which they chiefly lived had been 
offered to the devil in these oblations, I spent many days 
fasting ; and, almost every night, when I came in fast- 
ing, I would see our Egyptians sitting over their flesh- 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 49 

pots, whicli my severe, thougli self-imposed law, pre- 
vented my touching. And, although reasons occurred 
to me, at times dissuading me from this course, yet, by 
God's grace, I never suffered myself to break my reso- 
lution, but in hunger said to my God : " We shall be 
filled with the good things of thy house." — Psalms Ixiv. 
5. " I shall be satisfied when thy glory shall appear." 
— lb. xvi. 15. " When thou wilt truly fill the desire 
of thy hungry servants in thy holy city, Jerusalem, 
which thou wilt fill forever with the fat of corn." 
— lb. cxlvii. 14. 

I suffered also greatly from cold, amid the deep 
snows under my scanty, worn-out cloak, especially at 
night, when ordered to sleep uncovered on the bare 
ground on some rough bark ; for, though they had 
plenty of deerskins, perfectly useless to them, not one 
was given to me ; nay, when sometimes on a very bit- 
ter night, I would, overcome by the cold, .secretly take 
one, they rose at once and pulled it from me ; so great 
was their enmity against me. My skin was now in 
such a state that I could with David say : " It had with- 
ered with the filth of dust." — Job vii. 5. It burst with 
cold, and gave me great pain all over my body. But 
when inward afflictions came crowding on these outward 
cares, then indeed my grief became intolerable. I 
remembered that I had been recently covered with the 
life's blood of my dearest companion ; and those who 
came from William's village told me he had akeady 
been put to death with exquisite tortures, and that I 
myself, on my return, was to meet the same fate. With 
this came up the remembrance of my past life, stained 
with so many sins, and so unfaithful to God, and I 

5 



50 PERILS OF THE 

grieved that I was tlius to be torn away unaided by any 
of the sacraments in the very midst of my course, re- 
jected as it were by God, with, no good works sent on 
to plead my cause. In this state, loathing life, yet 
shrinking from death, I uttered many a mournful cry, 
and said imto my God : " When shall sorrows and mis- 
eries have an end ? How long wilt thou forget our 
want and our tribulation ? When, after this tempest, 
wilt thou give us calm, and, after weeping, joy and 
exultation ? And, had not those days been shortened, 
my flesh had not been saved." — Mark xiii. 20. 

I had recourse to my wonted refuge of the Scriptures, 
my usual retreat, and passages which my memory had 
retained taught me how I should think of God in good- 
ness, even though not upheld by sensible devotion; 
that I should know that the just man lives by faith. 
I searched them ; I followed their stream, and sought, 
as it were, ,to quench my daily thirst. " 1 meditated 
on the law of God night and day." — Psalms i. 2 ; 
and, " had not the law of God been my meditation, 
I had then, perhaps, perished in my abjection." — 
Psalms cviii. 92. " And my soul had passed through 
a water unsupportable." — Psalms cxxiii. 5. " But, 
blessed be God, who did not give us a prey to the 
teeth of our enemies." — Psalms cxxii. 6. " Whose 
hour had come and the power of darkness." — Luke 
xxii. 53. In which we " were overmuch oppressed." 
— 2 Cor. i. 8. So that I was weary of Hfe, and could 
say with Job, though in a different meaning, " Al- 
though he should kill me, I will trust in him." — 
Job. xiii. 15. 

Thus passed two months away in this retreat, where. 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 51 

like St. Bernard, the disciple of tlie trees of the for- 
est, I thought of naught but God, until become an 
object too hateful to all to be any longer borne with, 
I was sent back to the village before the usual time. 
During the way, which took us eight days, " I was 
become like a beast of burden before God," (Psalms 
Ixxii. 23,) under the heavy load of venison which I 
carried ; and, being ignorant what fate might await 
me at the village, endeavored to be ever united with him, 
for a party that had gone before had spread many 
reports about me. My sufferings in this journey, from 
the intense cold, were extreme ,• for I was nearly naked, 
and we generally passed the night in the open air. 

My unhealed fingers were another source of mis- 
ery ; for the wounds were hardly closed by the mid- 
dle of January. In the village, however, a thin skin 
was added to my worn out cloak ; in this wretched 
guise I traversed the streets of our village, begging 
that the Lord would one day join me with his saints 
who formerly served him in " sheepskins and goat- 
skins, distressed, afflicted, of whom the world was not 
worthy." — Hebrews xi. 37. And I daily saw the In- 
dians well dressed in the cloth and garments which 
our baggage had plentifully supplied, while I was 
shivering night and day with cold; but this was lit- 
tle ; more was I moved to see these heathen men 
unworthily profane things dedicated to the service of 
God. One of them had made himself leggings of two 
of the veils used at mass : " Non hos servatum munus 



* An object not destined to such a lise. — Aen. iv. 64. 



52 . PERILS OF THE 

I can in truth, say, before God, of all tliat period up 
to mid-January, " Even unto this hour, we both, hun- 
ger and thirst, and are naked and are buffeted, and have 
no fixed abode. And we labor, working with our 
hands ; we are reviled, and we bless ; we are persecuted, 
and we suffer it ; we are ill-spoken of and we entreat ; 
we are made as the refuse of this world, the oflf-scour- 
ing of all even until now." — 1 Cor. iv. 11. 

When, in the middle of January, my owners returned 
from the chase, they, in a manner, dressed me in skins, 
until a Lorrainese who lived among our Dutch neigh- 
bors, hearing that I suffered greatly from cold, sent me 
from his house, a dress, such as they usually sell to the 
Indians. This brought some slight alleviation to my 
pains, but I found still greater in the care of an old 
woman, whose only son had died not long before. 
She was of very noble rank in the nation, for barbarism, 
too, has its nobles ; she took care of me, and the Lord 
gave me grace in her eyes, yet all this was but a slight 
solace in such woe. 

"When I saw that my life was at last in some sort 
spared, I applied myself to the study of the language, 
and, as our cabin was the council hall, not only of the 
village, but of almost all that country, I began to in- 
struct the oldest on the articles of oui' faith. They, 
too, put me many questions, as to the sun, and moon, 
the face, which seemed to appear on his disk, of the 
circumference of the earth, of the size of the ocean, its 
tides, whether, as they had heard, the heavens and the 
earth anywhere met each other ; adapting my philoso- 
phy to their reach, I satisfied them on all these j then, 
indeed, they began to wonder, and say, " Indeed, we 



OCEAN AND "WILDERNESS. 53 

should have lost a great treasure, had we put this 
man to death, as we have been so often on the point of 
doing." Then I endeavored to raise their minds from 
creatures, to a knowledge of the Creator ; I confuted 
their old wives' tales of the creation of the world, 
which their fable makes out to have been created by a 
tortoise ; the sun was, I showed them, not only without 
an intellect, but even a lifeless mass, much less a God ; 
" that if, delighted by its appearance, they believed it to 
be a God, they should know that the Lord was much 
more more beautiful than it ; " that Aireskoi, whom 
they falsely asserted to be the Author and Preserver of 
life, and the Giver of all the good things which they 
enjoyed, was not a God but a demon. Were they as 
easy in belief as they are easy to be convinced, the 
matter would soon be settled. But the prince of the 
world expelled from almost every quarter of the globe, 
by the power of the cross, seems to have retreated into 
these regions, as his last stronghold ; so that the king- 
dom which this strong man armed has possessed here 
for so many thousand years, can be overthrown only in 
lapse of time, and by unconquerable constancy on the 
part of the soldiers of Christ. From time to time, how- 
ever, Christ, their true Lord and Lord of all, chooses 
some for himself, not only among the infants, many of 
whom are now in heaven, but even among adults, some 
of whom I baptized in sickness or in bondage. 

Many other native adults I instructed, but some 
refused to listen to me, others rejected me, others 
assented with their lips, merely from a kind of polite- 
nes which makes them consider it rude to contradict 
you ; and without attention to which, many would be 

5* 



54 PERILSOFTHE 

deceived. I sometimes even made excursions to tHe 
neighboring villages, to console and instruct the Chris- 
tian Hurons, "who had not bent their knee before 
Baal/' and to absolve them after hearing their confes- 
sions ; to announce God everywhere as far as I was able, to 
succor the dying, but especially to save infants in danger 
of death. This was my only solace in my bitterest 
mental pangs ; and once, with this view, I visited a 
neighboring village, and there baptized five children; 
I learnt, soon after, in another excursion, that all had 
been called to heaven. 

In these and like exercises, therefore, and attempts 
to study their language, (for what study can there be 
without writing ?) two months glided by. About the 
middle of March, when the snow had melted away, 
they took me with them to their fishing ground. "We 
accordingly started ; the party consisted of the old man 
and woman, a little boy and myself; four days' travel 
brought us to a lake where we caught nothing but a 
few little fishes. 

The intestines of these generally served as a season- 
ing for our sagamity, the fish being laid by to carry 
back to the village. 

Such food as this, with the intestines of deer full of 
blood, and half putrefied excrement, and mushrooms 
boiled, and rotten oysters, and frogs, which they eat 
whole, head and feet, not even skinned or cleaned ; 
such food, had hunger, custom, and want of better, 
made, I will not say tolerable, but even pleasing. How 
often, in those journeys, and in that quiet wilderness, 
^^ did we sit by the rivers of Babylon, and weep, while 
we remembered thee, Sion," not only exulting in heaven. 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 55 

but even praising tliy God on earth! "How often, 
though in a strange land, did we sing the canticle of 
the Lord;" and mountain and wildwood resound with 
the praises of their Maker, which from their creation 
they had never heard! How often, on the stately 
trees of the forest, did I carve the most sacred name 
of Jesus, that, seeing it, the demons might fly, who 
tremble when they hear it ! How often on them too, 
did I not strip off the bark, to form the most holy Cross 
of the Lord, that the foe might fly before it, and that 
by it, thou, O Lord, my king, " mightst reign in the 
midst of thy enemies," ' the enemies of thy cross, the 
misbelievers and the pagans who dwell in that land, 
and the demons who rule so powerfully there ! I rejoice, 
too, that I had been led by the Lord into the wilder- 
ness, at the very time when the church recalls the story 
of his Passion, so that I might more uninterruptedly 
remember the course of its bitterness and gall, and my 
soul might pine away at the remembrance. — Jer. iii. 20, 
Accordingly, after performing the services which 1 
owed as a slave to my masters, the slave of savages, 
(my occupation being to cut and bring in wood for the 
hut,) 1 spent almost all my time before a large cross 
which I had formed on a huge tree at a considerable 
distance from the hut. But I was not long allowed to 
enjoy this holy repose ; indeed, too many days had I 
passed, unharmed by my wonted terrors. On Monday, 
in Holy "Week, an Indian came to us from our village ; 
the reason of his coming was this. Ten Iroquois, 
among whom was the son of the man who had cut off 
my thumb, and in whose hut I now dwelt, had gone 
out on a war-party about mid-summer. (Summer, fall. 



56 PERILS OF THE 

and even the whole winter, passed without their being 
heard of,) they were consequently given up, especially 
as neighboring nations said that they had fallen victims 
to the cruelty of the enemy. But when, early in the 
spring, a captive was brought in during our absence, 
who, being also questioned as to them, gave the same 
answer, and said that they had been killed; then, indeed, 
deeming beyond a doubt, what they already believed to 
be true, they sacrificed that very captive to the manes of 
the young brave, the son of my master. 

But the soul of this captive seemed too vile to atone 
for the life of the noble youth. I was accordingly sent 
for, from the lake where we were, that, together with 
him, I might compensate for the death of the chief Such, 
at least, was the conclusion to which one or two old 
women and a decrepit old man had come. We con- 
sequently set out the next day, as if in flight, and, as a 
pretext, they said that parties of the enemy were around 
us. We reached the village towards evening, on Maun- 
dy Thursday. The morrow, which had closed the 
Savior's life, was now to close mine also I when it pleased 
him, who, by dying on that day, had given life to my 
spu'it, to give it also to my body. Accordingly, on that 
day when I was to have been put to death, a rumor was 
first spread without any good authority, that those sup- 
posed to be dead were still alive ; then it came that 
they had joined another war party, and were now bring- 
ing in twenty-two captives. 

Thus did God scatter the malignant designs of the 
savages, instructing and showing me that he took care 
of me, that I should cast myself wholly on him, conscious 
that he would not recoil and let me fall. 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 57 

Although I naturally rejoiced to be rescued from 
these and other dangers, yet I sighed to see myself 
again given over to new sorrows and heart-breaking 
torments, compelled me to drag on a life more painful 
than the most cruel death. For the success, as well as 
the reverses of these men, fell heavily on me alone ; if 
any one was slain in battle, I was at once demanded as 
a victim to be oifered to his shade. But if, as was gen- 
erally the case, they brought in prisoners after having 
killed more, my heart was always rent with grief, for 
they were either Frenchmen or allies of the French. 

Naturally, therefore, did I prefer retirement and sol- 
itude, where, far from the villages, I was no longer 
dismayed at the wonted cruelty of these savages, and 
where I could better and more freely hold converse 
with God. Yet knowing, that, though Lia was blear- 
eyed, she was more fruitful than Rachel, and bore more 
children ; mindful, too, of the Institute of our Society, 
which prefers our neighbor's salvation to our private 
spiritual delights, I reluctantly remained at home ; for 
the village enabled me to make greater progress in the 
language, and to secure the salvation of infants and 
adults by baptism ; for I was greatly grieved whenever, 
during my absence, an adult died without instruction or 
a child without baptism. 

To return to our war party : they came in bringing 
twenty-two prisoners, but belonging to a nation with 
whom they had as yet never been at war ; still, in viola- 
tion of all right and justice, they were beaten with 
clubs and stripes, and mutilated by the usual cutting oif 
of fingers. Five of them were to be put to death, for 
all the rest, being boys and girls, or women, were kept 



58 PERILSOFTHE 

as slaves. Their instruction was now an object of my 
solicitude, for I was ignorant of their language ; yet by 
God's grace I was able, by a few words that I picked 
up, but chiefly by the kindness of one who knew both 
languages, to instruct and baptize them. This happened 
at Easter. At Whitsuntide, they brought in new pris- 
oners, three women with their little children, the men 
having been killed near the French settlements. They 
were led into the village entirely naked, not even with 
any kind of petticoat on; and, after being severely 
beaten on the way, had their thumbs cut off. One of 
them, a thing not hitherto done, was burnt all over her 
body, and afterwards thrown into a huge pyre. And 
worthy of note is a strange rite I then beheld, when 
this woman was burnt ; at each wound which they in- 
flicted, by holding lighted torches to her body, an old 
man in a loud voice exclaimed, ^' Demon Aireskoi, we 
offer thee this victim, whom we burn for thee, that thou 
mayst be filled with her flesh, and render us ever anew 
victorious over our enemies." Her body was cut up, 
sent to the various villages and devoured; for about 
mid-winter, grieving as it were, that they had refrained 
from eating the flesh of some prisoners, they had in a 
solemn sacrifice of two bears, which they offered to 
their demon, uttered the words, " Justly dost thou 
punish us, oh. Demon Aireskoi ; lo ! this long time we 
have taken no captives ; during the summer and fall, 
we have taken none of the Algonquins. (These they 
consider properly their enemies.) We have sinned 
against thee, in that we ate not the last captives thrown 
into our hands ; but, if we shall ever again capture any, 
we promise thee to devour them as we now consume 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 59 

these two bears ; " and they kept their word. This poor 
woman I baptized in the midst of the flames, unable to 
do so before, and then only while raising a drink to her 
parched lips. 

On the eve of St. John the Baptist, of whom it is 
written ** that many shall rejoice at his birth," a new 
weight was added to my usual sorrows ; eleven Hurons 
and a Frenchman were brought in ; three Frenchmen 
and ten Hurons, among them some of the most celebrated 
Christians, had been killed, treacherously circumvented 
by a show of friendship. Of these, they bore the scalps 
or hair, which they tear off with the skin, from their 
fallen enemies. I certainly felt, in my own person, this 
punishment deserved by my sins, and pronounced of 
old by God to his people, when he said ^^ that their new 
moons, their festivals, and solemnities should be turned 
into grief and sorrow," as Easter and Whitsuntide, and 
the nativity of St. John the Baptist, each brought sor- 
rows on me, to be afterwards increased to agony by the 
slaughter of a hundred Hurons, most of whom, racked 
by fearful torments, were burnt to death in the neigh- 
boring cantons. " Wo is me, wherefore was I born to 
eee the ruin of my people." — 1 Mach. ii. 7. 

Verily, in these, and like heart-rending cares, "my 
life is wasted with grief, and my years with sighs ; " 
(Ps. XXX. S,) ^'for the Lord hath corrected me for mine 
iniquity, and hath made my soul waste away as a spi- 
der." — xxxviii. 12. "He hath filled me with my 
bitterness, he hath inebriated me with wormwood, 
(Lament, iii. 15,) because the comforter, the relief of 
my soul, is far from me," (i. 16.) " but, in all these 
things, we overcome," and by the favor of God will 



60 PERILSOFTHE 

overcome, '^ because of him that hath loved us/' (Rom. 
viii. 37,) until '^ he come that is to come and will not 
delay (Heb. x. 37,) until my day like that of a hireling 
come, (Job vii. 1,) or my change be made." — ^xiv. 14. 
Although I could, in all probability, escape either 
through the Europeans or the savage nations around us, 
did I wish to fly, yet on this cross, to which our Lord 
has nailed me beside himself, am I resolved by his grace 
to live and die. For who in my absence would console 
the French captives ? who absolve the penitent ? who 
remind the christened Huron of his duties ? who in- 
struct the prisoners to be brought in from time to time ? 
who baptize the dying, encourage them in their tor- 
ments ? who cleanse the infants with the saving wa- 
ters ? who provide for the safety of the dying adults, 
the instruction of those in health ? And indeed I can- 
not but think it a peculiar interposition of divine good- 
ness, that while on one side a nation fallen from the 
true Catholic religion barred the entrance of the faith to 
these regions, and on the other a fierce war between sav- 
age nations, and on their account with the French did 
the same, I should have fallen into the hands of these 
Indians, who, by the will of God, reluctantly, and, I may 
say, against their will, have, thus far, spared my life, that 
through me, though unworthy, those might be instruct- 
ed, believe and be baptized, who are predestined to 
eternal life. Since the time when I was taken, I have 
baptized seventy, children, young and old, of five differ- 
ent nations and languages, that of every tribe, and peo- 
ple, and tongue, they might stand in the sight of the 
Lamb. — Apoc. vii. 9. 

Therefore do I daily bow my knees to the Lord and 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 61 

to the Father of my Lord, that, if it be for his glory, he 
may contbund all the designs of the Europeans and 
savages, for ransoming me or sending me back to the 
whites. For many of the Indians speak of my being 
restored, and the Dutch, among whom I write this, 
have freq^uently offered, and now again offer, to rescue 
me and my companions. I have twice visited them and 
been most kindly welcomed ; they leave no stone un- 
turned to effect our deliverance ; and have made many 
presents to the Indians with whom I am, to induce 
them to treat me humanely. 

But I am now weary of so long and so prolix a letter ; I 
therefore earnestly beg your reverence, ever to recognize 
me, though unworthy, as one of yours ; for, though a 
savage in dress and manner, and almost without God in 
so tossed a life, yet, as I have ever lived a son of the 
most holy Church of Rome, and of the Society, so do I 
wish to die. Obtain for me from God, Eeverend Fa- 
ther, by your holy sacrifices, that although I have hith- 
erto but ill employed the means he gave me to attain 
the highest sanctity, I may at least employ well this last 
occasion which he offers me. Your bounty owes this 
.surely to your son who has recourse to you, for I lead 
a truly wretched life, where every virtue is in danger. 
Faith in the dense darkness of paganism ; hope in so 
long and hard trials ; charity amid so much corruption, 
deprived of all the Sacraments. Purity is not indeed 
here endangered by delights, yet it is amid this promis- 
cuous and intimate intercourse of both sexes ; in the 
perfect liberty of each to hear and do what he pleases, 
and most of all in their constant nakedness. For here, 
willing or not, you must often see what elsewhere is 



6^ PERILS or THE 

sliut out, not only from wandering, but even from curi- 
ous eyes. Hence I daily groan to my God, begging 
him not to leave me without help amid the dead ; beg- 
ging him, I say, that amid so much impurity and such 
superstitious worship of the devil to which he has ex- 
posed me, naked as it were, and unarmed, " my heart 
may be undefiled in his justifications," (Ps. cxviii. 80,) 
so that, when that good Shepherd shall come, " who will 
gather together the dispersed of Israel," (Ps. cxlvi. 2,) 
he may gather us from among the nations to bless his 
holy name. Amen ! Amen ! — Ps. cv. 47. 
Your Reverence's 

Most humble servant and son in Christ, 

Isaac Jogues. 

Permit me, through your Eeverence, to salute all my 
dear Pathers and Brothers, whom I tenderly love and 
cherish in Christ, and to commend myself to their Holy 
Sacrifices and Prayers. 

Your most humble servant and son in Christ, 

Isaac Jogues. 

Renssalaerswyck in New Nertherland, 
August 5, 1643. 

This letter was written, as we shall see by the next, 
after the holy missionary had left the Mohawk villages 
for the last time, unconscious as he was while penning 
it at Renssalaerswyck, our modern ' Albany, where the 
kind-hearted Dutch, impelled by their minister. Domi- 
nie Megapolensis, showed him every courtesy and kind 
sympathy. 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 63 

They had already enabled him to write to Monsieur 
de Champflour, Governor of Three Rivers, in a jargon of 
French, Latin and Huron, the following lines : 

Sir : — This is my fourth letter since I fell into the 
hands of the Iroquois. Time and paper prevent my 
repeating here, what I have already given you at length. 
Couture and I, are yet alive. Henry, a young man 
taken at Montreal, was brought in on St. John's eve. 
He did not run the gauntlet on entering the village, nor 
has he lost any fingers as we did ; he is alive, as well as 
all the Hurons brought in with him. Be on your guard 
everywhere. New parties are constantly setting out, 
and you must rely on it that the river will not be free 
from the enemy before the fall. The Iroquois here are 
about seven hundred ; they have three hundred arque- 
busses and handle them well. They can reach Three 
E-ivers by different streams. Fort Kichelieu gives them 
a little more trouble, but does not hinder them. The 
Iroquois say that if those who took and killed the 
French at Montreal, had known how you acted in res- 
cuing the Sokokiois from the hands of the Algonquins, 
they would not have done so. They had set out in mid- 
winter, before the news came. For all that, a new 
party has just set out, and Mathurin's man, (F. Brebeuf 
knows him well,) is with them, and leads the band, as 
he did at our capture last year. This troop desires and 
intends to take French as well as Algonquins. Do not 
let any consideration for me prevent your doing what 
may be for God's glory. 

The design of the Iroquois, as far as I can see, is to 
take all the Hurons, if they can, put to death the most 
eminent, and a good part of the rest, and make, of the 



64 PERILS OF THE 

two, one people and one land. I feel great compassion 
for these poor people, many of whom are Christians, 
others Catechumens, prepared for Baptism. When 
shall these evils be stopped ? "When they are all taken ? 
I received many letters from the Hurons with the Rela- 
tion taken at Montreal. The Dutch have wished to 
deliver us, but in vain. They are now making another 
effort, but will be, I think, equally fruitless. I am 
more and more resolved to stay here, as long as it shall 
please our Lord, and not go away, even if an occasion 
should offer. My presence consoles the French, Hu- 
rons and Algonquins. I have baptized more than sixty 
persons, many of whom are now in heaven. This is 
my only consolation, with the will of God, to which I 
most cheerfully unite mine. 

I beg you to recommend them to offer prayers and 
masses for us, and especially for him, who desires ever 
to be 

Your most humble servant, 

Isaac Jogues, S. J. 

Iroquois Village, June 30th, 1643. 

The following letter gives the account of his escape. 

Re^^erend Father: — The Peace of Christ. — 
On the very day of the feast of our holy Father Igna- 
tius, (July 31,) I left the village where I was a prisoner 
to follow and accompany some Iroquois who were going 
first to trade, then to fish. Having got through their 
traffic, they proceeded to a place seven or eight leagues 
below the Dutch post, which is on the river where we 
were fishing. While arranging our weirs for the fish, a 
report reached us that an Iroquois war party, returned 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 65 

from the Huron hunt, had killed five or six on the spot, 
and brought in four prisoners, two of whom had been 
already burnt at our village with more than common 
cruelty. 

At these tidings, my heart was rent with most keen 
and bitter grief, that I had not seen, consoled or bap- 
tized these poor victims. Fearful that something of the 
kind might happen again during my absence, I went to 
a good old woman, who, from her age and her care of 
me, as well as from her compassion for my sufferings, 
called me her nephew, as I called her, aunt. " Aunt," 
said I, '^I would much rather go back to our cabin, 1 
am very lonesome here." I did not indeed expect more 
comfort or less pain at the village, where I suffered a 
continual martyrdom, compelled to witness before my 
eyes the horrible cruelties they perpetrate, but my heart 
could not bear that one should die, without my afford- 
ing him baptism. " Go ! nephew," said this good wo- 
man, " go, if you are tired of this place, and take some- 
thing to eat on the way." I accordingly embarked in 
the first canoe going up to the village, always conducted, 
and always accompanied, by Iroquois. 

On reaching the Dutch post, through which we had 
to pass, I learned that our village was furious against 
the French, and that they only awaited my return to 
burn me. The reason of all was this. Among the war 
parties against the French, Algonquins and Hurons was 
one that resolved to go and prowl around Fort E-ichelieu 
to spy the French and their Indian allies. A certain 
Huron of this band taken by the Iroquois, and natural- 
ized among them, came to ask me for letters to carry to 
the French, hoping perhaps to surprise some one by this 
6* 



66 PERILS OF THE 

bait ; but, as I had no doubt tbe Frencb would be on 
their guard, and I saw the importance of giving them 
some inkling of the designs, arms and treachery of our 
enemy, I found means to get a bit of paper to write on. 
The Dutch did me this charity. 

I knew well the danger to which I exposed myself. 
I was well aware that, if any mishap befell the party, I 
would be made responsible, and the blame thrown on 
my letters. I foresaw my death, but it seemed to me^ 
sweet and agreeable, employed for the public good, and 
the consolation of our French, and the poor Indians 
who listen to the word of Jesus Christ. My heart was 
undisturbed by fear at the sight of all that might hap- 
pen — God's glory was concerned. 

So I gave my letter to the young brave who never 
returned. The story given by his comrades is, that he 
carried it to Fort Richeheu, and that, as soon as the 
French saw it, they fired their cannon at them ; that, 
alarmed at this, most of them took to flight, all naked, 
leaving one of their canoes, in which were three arque- 
buses, powder, ball, and other baggage. When this 
news was brought into the village, the cry was raised 
that my letter had caused them to be treated so. The 
rumor spread around ; it reached my eai's ; I was taunted 
with the mishap; they talked of nothing but bui-ning 
me ; and, had I been found in the village when these 
braves returned, fire, rage, and cruelty, had deprived 
me of Hfe. 

To increase my misfortune, another party returning 
from the neighborhood of Montreal, where they had 
laid an ambush for the French, said that two of their 
party had been killed, and two wounded. All made 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 67 

me guilty of these misliaps. They were now beside 
themselves with rage, and impatient for my return. 
All these reports I heard, offering myself nni-eservedly 
to our Lord, and resigning myself all in all to his most 
holy will. 

The commander of the Dutch post where we were, 
aware of the evil design of the savages, and aware, too, 
that the Chevalier de Montmagny had prevented the 
Canada Indians from coming to kill the Dutch, had 
offered me means of escape. " Here," said he, *^ lies a 
vessel at anchor, to sail in a few days. Get privately 
on board. It is bound first to Virginia, whence it will 
carry you to Bordeaux or Kochelle, where it must stop." 
Thanking him with much respect and courtesy, I told 
him that the Iroquois would suspect them of favoring 
my escape, and perhaps do some injury to their people. 
*^ No ! no ! " he replied, " do not fear, get on board, it 
is a fine opportunity, and you will never find a surer 
way of escaping." 

At these words, my heart was perplexed. I doubted 
whether it was not for the greater glory of our Lord 
to expose myself to the danger of savage fury and 
flames, in order to aid in the salvation of some soul. I 
therefore replied ; " This affair, sir, seems to me so 
important, that I cannot give you an answer on this 
spot ; give me, if you please, to-night to think it over. 
I will recommend it to our Lord ; I will examine the 
reasons on both sides, and will tell you my final resolu- 
tion in the morning." Greatly astonished, he granted 
my request. The night I spent in prayer, earnestly 
imploring our Lord not to let me adopt a conclusion 
myself, but to give me light to know his most holy will; 



68 PERILS OF THE 

that, in all, and through all, even to the stake Itself, I 
would follow it. The reasons to retain me in the country 
were the consideration of the French and Indians ; I 
loved them, and felt so great a desire to be of aid to 
them, that I had resolved to pass the rest of my days 
in this captivity, for their salvation ; but now I beheld 
the face of affairs entirely changed. 

First, as for the three Frenchmen, brought prisoners 
like myself into the country, one, Rene Goupil, had 
been massacred at my feet. This young man was as 
pure as an angel. Henry, taken at Montreal, had fled 
to the woods ; because, while he was beholding the 
cruelties perpetrated on two Hurons roasting alive, some 
Iroquois told him that they would treat him so and me 
too, as soon as I got back. This threat made him 
resolve to run the risk of starving in the woods, or 
being devoured by some wild beast, rather than endure 
the torments inflicted by these half demons. He had 
not been seen for seven days. As to William Couture, 
I could scarcely see any means of being of service to 
him for he had been put in a village at a distance from 
mine, and the Indians kept him so busy here and there, 
that I could no longer find him. He had, moreover, 
himself told me, " Father, try to escape ; as soon as I see 
no more of you, I will manage to get off. You know 
well that I remain in this captivity only for your sake ; 
do your best then to escape, for I cannot think of my 
own liberty or life, till I see you in safety." Besides, 
this good young friend had been given to an old man, 
who assured him that he would let him go in peace, if 
I could effect my deliverance, so that I no longer saw 
any reason to remain on account of the French. 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 69 

As to the Indians, instructing them was now out of 
the question, and almost hopeless ; for the whole coun- 
try was so excited against me, that I no longer found 
means to speak to them or gain them ; and the Algon- 
quins and Hurons kept aloof from me, as a victim 
destined to the flames, because they feared to come in 
for a share of the rage and hatred which the Iroquois 
bore me. * I saw, too, that I had some knowledge of 
their language, that I knew their country and their 
strength, and that I could perhaps contribute better to 
their salvation in other ways, than by remaining among 
them. All this knowledge, it occurred to me, would 
die with me, if I did not escape. The wretches too, 
had so little intention of giving us up, that they com- 
mitted an act of perfidy against the right and custom of 
all these nations. An Indian of the country of the 
Sokokiois, allies of the Iroquois, having been taken by 
the upper Algonquins, and brought to Three Hivers, or 
Quebec as a prisoner, was delivered, and set at liberty 
by the intervention of the Governor of New France, at 
the solicitation of our Fathers. The good Indian, see- 
ing that the French had saved his life, sent beautiful 
presents, in the month of April, to deliver at least one 
of the French. The Iroquois retained the presents 
without setting one of us at liberty ; a treachery, perhaps, 
unexampled among these tribes, for they invariably 
observe the law, that whoso touches or accepts the 
present made him, must execute what is asked by the 
present. Accordingly, when they do not wish to grant 
what is desired, they send back the presents or make 
others in their stead. 

But to return to my purpose ; having weighed before 



W PERILS OF THE 

God with all possible abstraction from self, the reasons 
for remaining among the Indians, and those for leaving, 
I concluded that our Lord would be more pleased with 
my taking the opportunity to escape. 

As soon as it was day, I went to salute the Dutch 
governor, and told him the resolution I had come to 
before God ; he called for the officers of the ship, told 
them his intentions, and exhorted them to receive and 
conceal me, in a word, to carry me over to Europe. 
They replied, that if I could once set foot in their ves- 
sel, I was safe ; I should not leave it till I reached 
Bordeaux or Rochelle. " Cheer up, then," said the 
governor, " return with the Indians, and this evening, 
or in the night, steal off quietly and make for the river, 
there you will find a little boat, which I will have 
ready to take you to the ship." After most humble 
thanks to all those gentlemen, I left the Dutch the bet- 
ter to conceal my design ; in the evening, I retired, with 
ten or twelve Iroquois, to a barn, where we spent the 
night ; before lying down, I went out to see where I 
could most easily escape. ,The dogs then let loose, ran 
at me, and a large and powerful one, snapped at my 
bare leg, and bit it severely ; I immediately entered the 
barn, the Iroquois closed the door securely, and, to 
guard me better, came and lay beside me, especially one 
who was in a manner appointed to watch me. Seeing 
myself beset with these mishaps, and the barn well shut 
and surrounded by dogs, that would betray me if I 
attempted to go out, I almost thought that I could not 
escape, and sweetly complained to my God, that, having 
given the thought of escaping, " He hath shut up my 
way with square stones, and in a spacious place my 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. Tl 

feet." — Lament, iii. 9. This whole night also, I spent 
without sleep ; towards day I heard the cocks crow ; — 
soon after a servant of the Dutch farmer who had 
received us into his barn entered by some door I did 
not see. I went up to him softly, and, not understanding 
his Flemish, made him a sign to stop the dogs barking ; 
he immediately went out, and I after him as soon as I 
had taken my little luggage, consisting of a Little Office 
of the Blessed Virgin, a following of Christ, and a 
wooden cross which I had made to keep me in mind of 
my Savior's sufferings. Having got out of the barn 
without making any noise, or waking my guards, 1 
climbed over a fence which enclosed the house, and 
ran straight to the river, where the ship was ; it was as 
much as my wounded leg could do, for the distance 
was a good quarter of a league. I found the boat as I 
had been told, but, as the tide had gone down, it was 
high and dry ; I pushed it to get it to the water, but, 
finding it too heavy, I called to the ship to send me 
their boat to take me on board. There was no answer ; 
I do not know whether they heard me ; be that as it 
may, no one appeared, and day was now beginning to 
reveal to the Iroquois the robbery which I had made of 
myself, and I feared to be surprised in my innocent crime. 
"Weary of hallooing, I returned to my boat, and praying 
to the Almighty to increase my strength, I succeeded 
at last so well, by working it slowly on, and pushing 
stoutly, that I got it into the water. As soon as it 
floated, I jumped in, and reached the vessel alone, uit- 
perceived by any Iroquois. I was immediately lodged 
in the bottom of the hold, and, to hide me, they put a 
large box on the hatch. I was two days and two nights 



73 PERILS OF THE 

in the hold of this ship, in such a state that I expected 
to be suffocated, and die of the stench, when I remem- 
bered poor Jonah, and prayed our Lord, " that I might 
not flee from his face," (Jonas i. 3,) nor depart from 
his will, but, on the contrary, " that he would infatuate 
all counsels," (2 Kings xv. 31,) that were not for his 
glory, and to keep me in the land of these heathen, if 
he did not approve my retreat and flight. 

The second night of my voluntary imprisonment, the 
Minister of the Hollanders came to tell me, that the 
Iroquois had made much trouble, and that the Dutch 
settlers were afraid that they would set fire to their 
houses and kill their cattle. They have reason to fear 
them, for they are armed with good arquebuses. " If," 
I replied, " for my sake, this great tempest is upon you, 
cast me into the sea." — Jonas i. 12. If this trouble has 
been caused by me, I am ready to appease it at the loss 
of my life. I had never wished to escape to the injury 
of the least man in the colony.* 

At last, then, I had to leave my den ; the sailors took 
umbrage, saying " that they had pledged their word in 
case I could set foot on the ship, and that they were 
now taking me off at the very moment when they 
should have brought me, had I not been there ; that I 
had put my life in danger, by escaping on their promise, 
and that, cost what it might, they must stick to it." 
This honest bluntness touched me, but I begged them 
to let me go, as the captain, who had opened to me the 



* He could say no more; for, spent with suffering of mind and body, and 
with want of food, he fell senseless on the deck. — MS. of P. Buteux. 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 73 

doorway of escaping, now asked me back.* I was 
taken to his house, where he kept me concealed. These 
comings and goings were done by night, so that I was 
not discovered. In all this proceeding, I might have 
urged my own reasons, but it was not for me to speak 
in my own cause, but rather to follow the commands of 
others ,* I cheerfully submitted. At last, the captain 
told me that we must yield calmly to the storm, and 
wait till the minds of the Indians were appeased; in 
this advice all concurred. Here then I am a voluntary 
prisoner in his house, whence I write this. If you ask 
my thoughts in all this affair, I will tell you. First, that 
the vessel which had wished to save me has gone off 
without me. Second, that if our Lord does not, in 
an almost miraculous way, protect me, the Indians, who 
come and go here every moment, will discover me, and 
if they ever believe that I am still here, I must necessa- 
rily be restored to their hands. 

Now when they had such fury against me before my 
flight, how will they treat me when I fall again into 
their power ? I will die by no ordinary death ; their 
fire, rage and new devised cruelties will wring out my 
life. Blessed be God's name forever ! We are ever in 
the bosom of his divine and adorable Providence. 
" Yea, the very hairs of your head are numbered. Fear 
not, therefore ; you are of more value than many spar- 
rows," '^ not one of whom falls to the earth without 
your Father." — Luke xii. 7. 

I have been hidden ten or twelve days, and it is hardly 
possible that an evil day will not come upon me. 

* By captain, he means apparently another than Van Curler, whom he 
calls governor, for he was not in his house. 



74 PERILS OF THE 

In the tHrd place, you will see our great need of 
your prayers, and of tlie holy sacrifices of all our Fathers. 
Give us this alms " that the Lord may render me fit to 
love him, patient to endure, constant to persevere in his 
holy love and service." This, and a little New Testa- 
ment from Europe, are my sole desires. Pray for these 
poor nations that burn and eat each other, that they may 
come to a knowledge of their Creator, and render him 
the tribute of their love. " I am mindful of you in my 
bonds ;" captivity cannot enchain my remembrance. 
I am, in heart and affection, etc. 

Kensselaerswyck, 30 August, 1643. 

The Mohawks were not easily appeased, and Father 
Jogues remained a close prisoner for six weeks ; so 
much neglected by his honest, but it would seem avari- 
cious, host, that he actually suffered hunger and thirst, 
for though his excellent friend, Megapolensis, constantly 
sent him victuals from his own table, it was not always 
that his present reached the missionary. In a letter, 
written by Father Jogues after his return to France, we 
can pursue his history. Addressing Father Charles 
Lalemant, the first Superior of the Jesuit missions in 
Canada, already known to our readers, he says : — 

^' Rennes, January 6, 1644. 

" ^ Now I know in very deed that the Lord hath sent 
his angels and hath delivered me out of the hand of 
Herod, and from all the expectation of the Jews.' — ^Acts 
xii. 11. The Iroquois came to the Dutch post about 
the middle of September, and made a great deal of dis- 
turbance, but at last received the presents made by the 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 75 

captain who had me concealed. They amounted to 
about three hundred livres^ which I will endeavor to 
repay. All things being quieted, I was sent to Manhat- 
tan, where the Governor of the country resides. He 
received me very kindly, gave me clothes, and passage 
in a vessel, which crossed the ocean in mid-winter. 

" Having put in in England, I got on a collier's ves- 
sel which brought me to Lower Brittany, with a night- 
cap on my head, in utter want of every thing, as you 
landed at St. Sebastian, but not after two shipwrecks." * 

His companion from Albany was Dominie Bogardus, who showed 
the greatest affection for him, and welcomed him to his house in 
Manhattan. The Governor, William Kieft, also treated him with 
marked kindness, and the Missionary, now cured of his recent wound, 
had leisure to examine the state of the capital of the Dutch colony. 
His observations he afterwards committed to writing, and, as the 
manuscript has been lately made public, we insert it at large. 

NEW HOLLAND, 

"Which the Dutch call, in Latin, Novum Belgium, in 
their own language, Nieuw Netherland, that is to say. 
New Low Countries, is situated between Virginia and 
New England. The mouth of the river, which some 
people call Nassau, or the Great North River, to distin- 
guish it from another, which they call the South River, 
and from some maps that I have recently seen, I think 
Maurice River, is at 40 deg. 30 min. The channel is 
deep, fit for the largest ships, which ascend to Manhat- 
te's Island, which is seven leagues in circuit, and on 
which there is a fort, to serve as the commencement of 
a town to be built here, and to be called New Amsterdam. 

♦ See Relations, 1642-3, p. 284. 



T6 PERILS o:f the 

The fort, which is at the point of the island, about five 
or six leagues from the mouth, is called Fort Amster- 
dam ; it has four regular bastions mounted, with several 
pieces of artillery. All these bastions, and the curtains 
were, in 1643, but mounds, most of which had crumbled 
away, so that they entered the fort on all sides. There 
were no ditches. For the garrison of the said fort, and 
another which they had built still further up, against 
the incursions of the savages, their enemies, there were 
sixty soldiers. They were beginning to face the gates 
and bastions with stone. Within the fort there was a 
pretty large stone church, the house of the Governor, 
whom they call Director General, quite neatly built of 
brick, the storehouses, and barracks. 

On the Island of Manhatte, and in its environs, there^ 
may well be four or five hundred men of different sects 
and nations ; the Director General told me that there 
were men of eighteen different languages ; they are scat- 
tered here and there on the river, above and below, as the 
beauty and convenience of the spot invited each to set- 
tle ; some, mechanics, however, who ply their trade, are 
ranged under the fort ; all the others were exposed to 
the incursions of the natives, who, in the year 1643, 
while I was there, actually killed some two score Hol- 
landers, and burnt many houses and barns full of wheat. 

The river, which is very straight, and runs due north 
and south, is at least a league broad before the fort. 
Ships lie at anchor in a bay which forms the other side 
of the island, and can be defended from the fort. 

Shortly before I arrived there, three large ships of 
three hundred tons each had come to load wheat ; two 
found cargoes, the third could not be loaded, because 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 77 

the savages had burnt a part of their grain. These 
ships came from the "West Indies, where the "West 
India Company usually keeps up seventeen ships of 
war. 

No religion is publicly exercised, but the Calvinist ; 
and orders are to admit none but Calvinists ; but this is 
not observed ; for there are in the Colony besides them 
Catholics, English Puritans, Lutherans, Anabaptists, 
here called Mnistes, Mennonists, etc. When any 
one comes to settle in the country, they lend him horses, 
cows, etc.; they give him provisions, all of which he 
returns as soon as he is at ease ; and, as to the land, after 
ten years, he pays to the West India Company, the 
tenth of the produce which he reaps. 

This country is bounded on the New England side 
by a river which they call the Fresche (Connecticut) 
River, which serves as a boundary between them and 
the English. The English, however, come very near to 
them, choosing to hold lands under the Hollanders, who 
ask nothing, rather than depend on English Lords, who 
exact rents, and would fain be absolute. On the other 
side, southward, toward .Virginia, its limits are the river 
which they call the South (Delaware) Eiver, on which 
there is also a Dutch settlement, but the Swedes have one 
at its mouth, extremely well supplied with cannons and 
men. It is believed that these Swedes are maintained 
by some Amsterdam merchants, who are not satisfied 
that the West India Company should alone enjoy all the 
commerce of these parts. It is near this river that a 
gold mine is reported to have been found. 

See, in the work of the Sieur de Laet of Antwerp, the 
table and chapter on New Belgium, as he sometimes 

7* 



78 PERILS OF THE 

calls it, or the map " Nova Anglia, Novu Belgium et 
Virginia." 

It is about forty years since the Hollanders came to 
these parts. The fort was begun in the year 1615; 
they began to settle about twenty years ago, and there is 
already some little commerce with Virginia and New 
England. 

The first comers found lands fit for use, previously 
cleared by the savages, who formerly had fields here. 
Those who came later have cleared the woods, which are 
mostly of oak. The soil is good. Deer hunting is 
abundant in the fall. There are some houses built of 
stone ; lime they make of oyster shells, great heaps of 
which are found here, made formerly by the savages, 
who subsisted in part by that fishery. 

The climate is very mild. Lying at forty and two- 
thirds degrees, there are many European fruits, as ap- 
ples, pears and cherries. I reached there in October, 
and foimd, even then, a considerable quantity of peaches. 

Ascending the river to the forty-third degree, you 
meet the second Dutch settlement, which the tide 
reaches, but does not pass. Ships of a hundred and 
twenty tons can come up to it. 

There are two things in this settlement, (which is 
called Rensselaerswyck, as if to say settlement of Rens- 
selaers, who is a rich Amsterdam merchant) — first, a 
miserable little fort called Fort Orange, buih of logs, 
with four or five pieces of Breteuil cannon, and as many 
swivels. This has been reserved, and is maintained by 
the West India Company. This fort was formerly on 
an island in the river ; it is now on the main land, 
towards the Hiroquois, a little above the said island. 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 79 

Second^ a colony sent here by this Rensselaers, who is 
the Patroon. This colony is composed of about a hun- 
dred persons, who reside in some twenty-five or thirty 
houses, built along the river, as each found most conve- 
nient. In the principal house lives the Patroon's agent ; 
the Minister has his apart, in which service is performed. 
There is also a kind of Bailiff here, whom they call the 
Seneschal, who administers justice. Their houses are 
merely of boards, and thatched, with no mason work 
except the chimneys. The forest furnishing many large 
pines, they make boards by means of their mills, which 
they have here for the purpose. 

They found some pieces of ground already, which 
the savages had formerly cleared, and in which they 
sow wheat and oats for beer, and for their horses, of 
which they have great numbers.* There is little land fit 
for tillage, being hemmed in by hills, which are barren. 
This obliges them to separate, and they already occupy 
two or three leagues of country. 

Trade is free to all ; this gives the Indians all things 
cheap, each of the Hollanders outbidding his neighbor, 
and being satisfied, provided he can gain some little 
profit. 

This settlement is not more than twenty leagues from 
the Agniehronons, (Mohawks) who can be reached by 
land or water, as the river on which the Iroquois lie, 
falls into that which passes by the Dutch, but there are 
many low rapids, and a fall of a short half league, where 
the canoe must be carried. 

* The introduction of horses and of European fruits was much neglected 
by the French in Canada, and, even later than this date, an apple was a 
rarity. 



80 PERILS OFTHE 

There are many nations between the two Dutch set- 
tlements, which are about thirty German leagues apart ; 
that is, about fifty or sixty French leagues. The Loups* 
whom the Iroquois call Agotsagenens, are the nearest to 
E-ensselaerswyck and Fort Orange. War breaking out 
some years ago between the Iroquois and the Loups, 
the Dutch joined the latter against the former, but four 
men having been taken and burnt, they made peace. 
Since then, some nations near the sea having killed some 
Hollanders of the most distant settlement, the Holland- 
ers killed one hundred and fifty Indians, men, women 
and chidren. They having then, at intervals, killed 
forty Hollanders, burnt many houses, and- committed 
ravages, estimated, at the time that I was there, at 
200,000 liv. (two hundred thousand livres,) they raised 
troops in New England. Accordingly, in the beginning 
of winter, the grass being trampled down, and some 
snow on the ground, they gave them chase with six 
hundred men, keeping two hundred always on the move, 
and constantly relieving one another ; so that the In- 
dians, shut up in a large island, and unable to flee easily 
on account of their women and children, were cut to 
pieces, to the number of sixteen hundred, including 
women and children. This obliged the rest of the In- 
dians to make peace, which still continues. This occur- 
red in 1643 and 1644. 

Three Elvers in New France, Aug. 3, 1646. 

♦ These are the Mohegans, whom Champlain, the first to know them, 
calls them " Mayganathicoise," which means " Wolf tribe," p. 173. The 
Indian name Mohegan has been preserved in English, but the French, trans- 
lating their name, generally called them Loups, though Mohingan is not 
unfrequent. Champlain puts them two days' march from the Yroccis and 
three or four from the Dutch. 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 81 

The sequel of the missionary's career can be shortly told. He left 
New York as we have seen in a small bark on the 5th of November, 
and, after much hardship, put into Falmouth, in England, having 
almost fallen into the hands of a Parliament cruiser. Here their bark 
was entered by robbers, and F. Jogues stripped of his hat and coat. 
Having seen a French collier, he went up to him, and though at first 
taken for a beggar, made known his real character, and obtained 
passage to the French coast, which he reached between Brest and 
St. Pol de Leon on Christmas day, early enough to satisfy his devo- 
tion by receiving commimion, of which he had so long been deprived. 

A good merchant took him to Rennes, unknown ; he presented 
himself at the college of his order as one who brought news from 
Canada. The Rector, who was preparing to say mass, hurried to see 
the stranger, as soon as he heard the word Canada. Almost his first 
question was, as to Father Jogues, " Do you know him ? " "I 
know him well," said the other. " We have heard of his capture by 
the Iroquois, and his horrible sufierings. What has become of him ? 
Is he still alive ? " " He is alive," said F. Jogues, " he is free, he is 
now speaking to you," and he cast himself at the feet of his astonish- 
ed Superior to ask his blessing. 

Once known, honors met him on every side ; objects belonging to 
him were eagerly sought as relics ; the Queen Regent even requested 
that he should come to Paris, that she might see so illustrious a suf- 
ferer. All this was painful to him, and it was not till three times 
summoned, that he proceeded to the Capital. He longed to return 
to Canada ; but one thing prevented his departm*e. The mangled 
hands which had been reverently kissed by the Queen and Court of 
France, were an obstacle to his celebrating the Holy Sacrifice of the 
Altar. A dispensation was needed. Urban VIII. then sat in the 
See of Peter, a Pope noted especially for the stringent rules which he 
introduced against any symptom of public veneration to the departed 
servants of God, until their life and virtues had been sifted and exam- 
ined in the long and minute legal proceedings for canonization. Yet, 
when the appHcation of Father Jogues was presented, and he had 
learned the story of his sufierings, he forgot his own laws, and ex- 
claimed, as he granted it, " Indignum esse Christi martyrem Christi 
non bibere sanguinem." 

Nothing now detained the missionary in France, and early in the 
spring of 1644, he was again in Canada. The colony was on the 



82 PERILSOFTHE 

brink of ruin, but the Governor fortunately brought the Mohawks to 
oflFer peace. It was concluded at Three Rivers on the 12th of July, 
1645. Father Jogues, though stationed at Montreal, was present, 
and an anxious observer of the state of feeling. The treaty was at 
last confirmed on the Mohawk, and again renewed on the St. Law- 
rence, with a request for a missionary. Conscious that all would 
turn to him, he wrote to a friend the following oft-cited letter : — 

^^Alas, my dear Father, when shall I begin to love 
and serve him whose love for us had no beginning ? 
When shall I begin to give myself entirely to him, who 
has given himself unreservedly to me ? Although I 
am very miserable, and have so misused the graces our 
Lord has done me in this country, I do not despair, as 
he takes care to render me better by giving me new 
occasions to die to self, and unite myself inseparably to 
him. 

*^The Iroquois have come to make some presents to 
our Governor to ransom some prisoners he held, and to 
treat of peace with him in the name of the whole 
country. It has been concluded to the great joy of the 
French. It wilt last as long as pleases the Almighty. 

" To maintain it, and see what can be done for the 
instruction of these tribes, it is here deemed expedient 
to send some Father. I have reason to think I shall be 
sent, having some knowledge of the language and 
country. You see what need I have of the powerful 
aid of prayers, being amidst these savages. I will have 
to remain among them, almost without liberty to pray, 
without mass, without sacraments, and be responsible 
for every accident among the Iroquois, French, Algon- 
quins, and others. But what do I say ? My hope is in 
God, who needs not us to accomplish his designs. We 



OCEAK AND WILDERNESS. o3 

laust endeavor to be faithful to him, and not spoil his 
work by our short-comings. I trust you will obtain me 
this favor of our Lord, that, having led so wretched a 
life till now, I may at last begin to serve him better. 

" My heart tells me that if I have the happiness of being 
employed in this mission, Ibo et non redibo : but I shall 
be happy, if our Lord will complete the sacrifice where 
he has begun it, and make the little blood I have shed 
in that land, the earnest of what I would give from 
every vein of my body and my heart. 

"In a word, this people is 'a bloody spouse to 
me,' 'in my blood have I espoused it to me.' — Exod. 
iv. 25. May our good Master, who has purchased them 
in his blood, open to them the door of his gospel, as 
well as to the four allied nations near them. 

" Adieu, dear Father, pray him to unite me insepara- 
bly to him. 

"Isaac Jogues, S. J." 

The mission was at last resolved upon : in a council of the mis- 
sionaries at Quebec, it was determined in April that Father Jogues 
should begin the new mission of the Martyrs. 

He received the announcement at Montreal, and wrote as follows : 

"Beverend Father: 

" The letter which it has pleased your Reverence to 
write, found me in my Retreat, and in the Exercises* 
which I had begun, there being no canoe to carry our 

* To make a retreat or perform the spiritual exercises, is to give a certain 
time, usually eight days, to silence, prayer, meditation, pious reading, and 
self-examination. This is required annually by the rules of some religious 
orders, and is a common practice with the devout in Catholic countries, 
where suitable houses are to be found adapted for this temporary retire- 



84 PERILS OF THE 

letters. I cliose tMs time, because tlie Indians, being at 
the chase, allow us to enjoy a greater silence. 

"Would you believe, that on opening your letter my 
heart was at first seized with a kind of fear, that what 
I desire, and what my soul should earnestly desire, 
might arrive ? Poor nature, mindful of the past, trem- 
bled; but our Lord, by his goodness, has given, and 
will again restore it calm. 

" Yes, Father, I will all that our Lord wills, and I 
will it at the peril of a thousand lives. Oh ! how I 
should regret to lose so glorious an occasion, when it 
may depend only on me that some souls be saved ! I 
hope that his goodness, which has not abandoned me in 
the hour of trial, will aid me still. He and I are able 
to trample down every difficulty that can oppose the 
project. 

'' It is much to be ' in medio nationis pravse,' with- 
out mass, without altar, without confession, without sac- 
raments, but his holy will and divine Providence so 
will it. 

" He who, by his holy grace, preserved us without 
these helps, for eighteen or twenty months, will not 
refuse us the same favor, for we do not thrust ourselves 
into this work, but undertaking this voyage solely to 
please him, without consulting all the repugnances of 
nature. 

" As to all these comings and goings of the Iroquois, 
what I can say is, that I see very few from the first two 
towns ; yet it is with them chiefly that we are concerned, 
as the last killed were of these villages. Scarcely any 
have come except from the last village, where Couture 
was, and they profess, at least, in words, not to come 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 85 

as warriors in these parts. It is not, however, with 
these last that we must dwell, hut with those whom we 
do not see. 

"I thank you affectionately for sending me your 
Huron rudiments. Send the rest, when you please. 
What I need is chiefly prayers, formularies for confes- 
sion, et ejusdem generis. I will thereby become your 
debtor, as I am already on so many grounds. I owe 
your Reverence the account of the * Capture and Death 
of good Rene Goupil,' which I should have sent already. 
If the bearer of this give me time, I will send it alonsf. 

" If God wills that I go to the Iroquois, my compan- 
ion must be virtuous, docile, courageous, and willing to 
suffer something for God. It would be well for him to 
know how to make canoes, so that we can go and return 
without calling on the Indians." 

The account of Rene Goupil here referred to still exists in manu- 
script, and as probably his last work, we insert it in this collection. 



86 PERILS OF THE 



CHAPTER III. 

ACCOUNT OF THE CAPTIVITY AND DEATH OF RENE GOUFIL. 
BY FATEBB ISAAC JOQtTES. 

E»ENE GouPiL was a native of Angers, who in the 
bloom of life earnestly asked admission into our noviti- 
ate at Paris, where he remained some months with great 
edification. His bodily ailments having deprived him 
of the happiness of consecrating himself in the holy state 
of religion as he had wished, he crossed over to New 
Prance, as soon as he grew better, to serve the society 
there, as he had not had the happiness of giving himself 
to it in the old. And to do nothing of his own head, 
though perfect master of his actions, he submitted him- 
self entirely to the direction of the Superior of the mis- 
sion, who employed him for two whole years in the 
meanest employments of the house, which he discharged 
with great humility and charity. They also gave him 
the care of tending the sick and wounded, in the hospi- 
tal, a post he filled with great ability, for he was well 
skilled in surgery, and with equal love and charity, 
always beholding our Lord in the person of his patients. 
So sweet an odor of his goodness and other virtues did 
he leave in that place, that his memory is still in bene- 
diction there. 

As we descended from the Hurons in July, 164^, we 



OCEAN AND WILDEHNESS. 8T 

asked the reverend Father Vimont to let us take him, 
as the Hurons greatly needed a surgeon, and he con- 
sented. It were impossible to express the joy of this 
good young man when the Superior told him to prepare 
for the voyage. He knew withal the great dangers on 
the river; he knew how furious the Iroquois were 
against the French, yet all this could not deter him 
from embarking for Three Rivers, at the slightest sign 
of HIS will, to whom he had voluntarily resigned all that 
concerned him. 

We left there, (Three E-ivers,) on the first of August, 
the morrow of the feast of our holy Father. On the 
second, we met the enemy, who divided into two bands, 
awaited us, with all the advantage, which a large num- 
ber of picked men, fighting on land, can have over a 
smaller one of all kinds on the water in bark canoes. 

Almost all the Hurons had fifed into the wood, and, 
having left us, we were taken. Here his virtue was 
strikingly displayed, for, as soon as he was taken, he 
said : " Father ! Blessed be God, he has permitted it, 
he has wished it, his holy will be done, I love it, I wish 
it, I cherish it, I embrace it with all my heart." While 
the enemy pursued the fugitives, I confessed him and 
gave him absolution, not knowing what was to befal us 
after our capture. The enemy having returned from 
the chase, fell on us with theii* teeth like furious dogs, 
tore out our nails and crunched our fingers, all which 
he endured with great patience and courage. 

His presence of mind, in so distressing an accident, 
was shown, especially in his aiding me, in spite of his 
wounds, in instructing, as far as he could, the Huron 
prisoners, who were not yet Christians. As I was in- 



88 PERILS OF THE 

structing them separately, and as they came to me, he 
reminded me that a poor old man named Ond^terraon, 
might well be one of those to be killed on the spot, it 
being their custom always to sacrifice some one to the 
heat of their rage. I instructed this old man carefully 
while the enemy were busied with the division of the 
booty of twelve canoes, a part of which were laden with 
necessaries for our Huron Fathers. The spoil being 
divided, they killed the poor old man almost at the very 
moment when I had given him a new birth. During 
our march to the enemy's country, we had the additional 
consolation of being together, and here, I witnessed 
many virtues. 

On the way, he was always absorbed in God. His 
words and conversation were all in perfect submissive- 
ness to the orders of Divine Providence, and a volun- 
tary acceptance of the death which God sent him. 
He offered himself to him as a holocaust, to be reduced 
to ashes in the fires of the Iroquois, which that good 
Father should enkindle. In all and by all, he sought 
means to please him. One day, it was soon after our 
capture, he told me, while still on the way : " Father ! 
God has always given me a great desire to consecrate 
myself to his holy service by the vows of religion in his 
holy society ; till now my sins have rendered me un- 
worthy of this grace ; yet I hope that our Lord will 
accept the offering I wish to make him now, allow me to 
take, in the best manner I can, the vows of the society in 
the presence of my God, and before you." Having per- 
mitted him, he pronounced them with great devotion. 

Wounded as he was, he dressed the wounds of others, 
not only of the prisoners, but even of such of the enemy 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. S9 

as had received any wound in tlie combat. He also 
bled a sick Iroquois, and did it all with as much charity 
as if he were doing it to his dearest friends. 

His humility, and the obedience he paid to his cap- 
tors, confounded me. The Iroquois, who had us both 
in their canoe, told me to take a paddle, and use it. 
Proud even in death, I would not. Some time after, 
they told him to do it, and he immediately began to 
paddle ; but when he perceived that the Indians wished 
to compel me to do so after his example, he begged my 
pardon. At times, on the way, I suggested to him 
thoughts of flight, as the liberty given us afforded him 
abundant opportunity. For my own part, I could not 
forsake a Frenchman and twenty-four or five Huron 
prisoners. He would never do it, resigning himself 
entirely to the will of our Lord, who inspired him with 
no such thought. 

On the Lake, (Champlain,) we met two hundred Iro- 
quois, who came to Hichelieu, when they began to build 
the fort ; they covered us with stripes, drenched us in 
blood, and made us experience the rage of men possessed 
by the devil. All these outrages and cruelties he en- 
dured with great patience and charity for those who 
ill-treated him. 

On entering the first town where we were so cruelly 
treated, he showed extraordinary patience and mildness. 
Having fallen under the hail of blows, of clubs, and iron 
rods poured on us, and unable to rise, he was carried, 
as it were, half dead on the scaffold, where we were 
already in the middle of the town, but in so pitiable 
state that he would have moved cruelty itself to com- 
passion; he was all livid with bruises, and in his face 
8» 



90 PERILS OF THE 

"we could distinguisli notliing but the wliite of his eyes ; 
yet, lie was the more beautiful in the eyes of angels as 
he was more disfigured and like him, of whom it is 
said : " We have seen him as a leper," etc. " There 
was in him neither comeliness nor beauty." 

Scarcely had he, or even we, recovered breath, when 
they came and gave him three blows on the shoulders 
with a heavy club, as they had done to us. After cut- 
ting off a thumb from me, as the most important, they 
turned to him, and cut off his right thumb at the first 
joint. During this cruel Operation, he constantly re- 
peated, " Jesus, Mary, Joseph." During the six days 
that we were exposed to all those who chose to maltreat 
us, he displayed extraordinary mildness ; his breast was 
all burnt by the live coals and ashes, which the boys 
threw on his body, when he was tied down on the ground 
at night. Nature gave me more dexterity than him in 
escaping some of these pains. 

'* After our life was granted us, just after we had been 
warned to prepare to be burned, he fell sick in great want 
of everything, especially of food, for he was not accus- 
tomed to theirs. Here truly it may be said, '^ Non cibus 
utilis segro." I could not relieve him, being also sick, 
and not having one finger sound, or whole. 

Bnt I must hasten to his death, which wants nothing 
to be that of a martyr. 

After we had been six weeks in the country, as con- 
fusion arose in the councils of the Iroquois, some of 
whom were for sending us back, we lost all hope, which 
in me had never been sanguine, of seeing Three Rivers 
that year. We consoled one another then at this dis- 
posal of Providence, and prepared for all he should 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 91 

ordain in our regard. He did not see the danger we 
were in so clearly ; I saw it better. This made me often 
tell him to hold himself in readiness. Accordingly, one 
day, when in our mental pain, we had gone out of the 
town to pray more becomingly and undisturbed by noise, 
two young men came after us and told us to return home. 
I had some presentiment of what was to happen ; and 
told him : " My dear brother, let us recommend ourselves 
to our Lord and to our good mother, the Blessed Virgin ; 
these men have some evil design, as I think." We had 
a little before offered ourselves to our Lord with much 
devotion, beseeching him to accept our lives and blood, 
and unite them to his life and blood for the salvation of 
these poor tribes. We were returning then towards the 
town, reciting our beads, of which we had already said 
four decades, and having stopped near the gate of the 
town to see what they would say, one of these two Iro- 
quois drew an axe which he had hidden under his blanket, 
and dealt Rene a blow on the head as he stood before 
him ; he fell stiff on his face on the ground, uttering the 
holy name of Jesus, for we had often reminded each 
other to close our voice and life with that holy name. 
I turned at the blow, and seeing the reeking hatchet, fell 
on my knees to receive the blow that was to unite me to 
my loved companion, but as they delayed I rose, ran to 
him, as he lay expiring near me. They gave him two 
more blows on the head, and extinguished life, but not 
before I had given him absolution, which, since our cap- 
tivity, I had given him regularly after his confession 
every other day. 

It was the day of September, the feast of St. 

Michael, that this angel in innocence, and martyr of 



92 PERILS OF THE 

Christ, gave his life for him, who had given him his. 
They commanded me to return to my cabin, where I 
awaited during the rest of the day and the next the same 
treatment. It was the belief of all that I would not wait 
long as he had begun it, and in fact for several days they 
came to kill me, but our Lord prevented it by ways, 
which would be too long to explain. Early the next 
morning, I did not fail to start out to inquire where they 
had thrown that blessed body, for I wished to inter it, 
cost what it might. Some Iroquois, who had a wish to 
save me^ said, " Thou hast no sense ; thou seest that they 
seek thee everywhere to kill thee, and thou goest out 
still ; thou wilt go to seek a body already half corrupted, 
which has been dragged far from here. Seest thou not, 
those young men going out, who will kill thee, when thou 
art past the palisade ? " This did not stop me, and our 
Lord gave me courage enough to be willing to die in 
that office of charity. I go, I seek, and by the help of 
an Algonquin taken, and now a real Iroquois, I find it. 
After he had been killed, the children had stripped him 
and, tying a cord around his neck, dragged him to a tor- 
rent which runs at the foot of their town. The dogs 
had already gnawed a part of his thighs. At this spec- 
tacle, I could not withhold my tears. I took the body, 
and, aided by the Algonquin, I sunk it in the water and 
covered it with large stones, to hide it, intending to re- 
turn the next day with a spade, when there was no one 
near, and dig a grave and inter it. I thought the body 
well hidden, but perhaps some one saw us, especially of 
the youth, and took it up. 

The next day, as they sought to kill me, my aunt sent 
me to her field to escape as I think ; this compelled me 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. ^6 

to defer it till the following day. It rained all night, so 
that the torrent was extremely swelled ; I borrowed a 
hoe in another cabin, the better to conceal my design, 
but, on approaching the place, could not find the blessed 
deposit ; I entered the water already quite cold, I go and 
come ; I sound with my feet to see whether the water 
had not raised and carried off the body, but I saw 
nothing. How many tears I shed, which fell in the tor- 
rent, while I sang as I could the psalms which the church 
chants for the dead ! After all, I found nothing, and a 
woman known to me who passed by, seeing me in 
trouble, told me, when I asked her whether she did not 
know what had been done with it, that it had been 
dragged to the river which is a quarter of a league from 
there, and with which I was not acquainted. This was 
false, the young men had taken it up and dragged it to 
a neighboring wood, where, during the fall and winter, 
it was the food of the dog, the crow, and the fox. 
When I was told in the spring that he had been dragged 
there, I went several times without finding anything ; 
at last, the fourth time I found his head, and some half 
gnawed bones, which I interred, intending to carry them 
off, if taken back to Three Rivers as was then talked of. 
Repeatedly did I kiss them as the bones of a martyr of 
Jesus Christ. 

I give him this title, not only because he was killed 
by the enemies of God, and his church, in the exercise 
of an ardent love for his neighbor, putting himself in evi- 
dent peril for the love of God, but particularly because 
he was killed for prayer, and expressly for the Holy 
Cross. He was in a cabin where he prayed daily, which 
scarcely pleased a superstitious old man there. One 



94 PEKILS OF THE 

day^ seeing a little cliild tkree or four years old in tlie 
cabin, from an excess of devotion and a love of the cross, 
and in a simplicity which we, who are more prudent 
according to the flesh would not have had, he took off 
his cap, and putting it on the child's head, made the sign 
of the cross on his body. The old man seeing it ordered 
a young man in his cabin, who was starting on a war 
party, to kill him, and he obeyed the order as we have 
seen. 

The mother of the child herself, in a march which I 
had made with her, told me that he had been killed for 
that sign of the cross, and the old man who had given 
the order to kill him, invited me one day to his cabin, 
to dinner ; but, when I made the sign of the cross be- 
fore beginning, he said, ^^ There is what we hate ; that 
is what we killed thy comrade for, and will kill thee 
too. Our neighbors, the Europeans, do not make it." 
Sometimes, too, as I prayed on my knees in hunting 
time, they told me that they hated that way of doing, 
and had killed the other Frenchman for it, and would 
kill me too, when I got back to the village. 

I beg pardon of your Eeverence, for the precipitation 
with which I write this, and my want of respect in so 
doing. Excuse me, if you please ; I feared to miss this 
opportunity of discharging a debt I should long since 
have discharged. 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 95 



CHAPTEE IV. 

DEATH OF FATHER JOGTJES. 

Though a mission was resolved upon, it was thought better that 
he should go first as ambassador, and was accordingly sent with 
Mr. Bourdon, an officer in the employ of the colony.* Of this 
embassy, the missionary drew up a full account, which was in exist- 
ence till 1800, when it was, with other papers belonging to the Canada 
Jesuits, seized by the British government. It has now disappeared. 
The Relation, which doubtless followed it, says that they left Three 
Rivers on the 16th of May, 1646, with four Mohawks and two Algon- 
quins. Ascending the Sorel, they traversed Lake Champlain, and, on 
the 29th of May, reached the beautiful lake below it. Its Iroquois 
name was Andiataracte ; for Europeans, it was without a name, but, 
as it was the eve of Corpus Christi, the festival instituted by the 
Church, to honor Christ's presence in the Holy Eucharist, the mis- 
sionary gave it the name, which it bore for more than a century, Lac 
Saint Sacrement, or Lake of the Blessed Sacrament.f 

Continuing their march, they came to Ossarague, a fishing station, 
on the Maurice, or Upper Hudson, which they descended to Fort 
Orange. When the missionary had here repaid his debt of gratitude, 

* As the missionary was about to set out, an Algonquin chief advised him 
to lay aside his religious habit. His reason was striking; it exemplifies 
perfectly what has been called "the hideous face of Christianity." "There 
is nothing," said the Algonquin chiefs, " nothing more repulsive at first, 
than this doctrine, that seems to exterminate all that men hold dearest. 
Your long gown preaches it as strongly as your lips; leave it, and go in a 
short coat. Bourdon, thus associated with the life of Father Jogues, inter- 
married in the family to which Henry de Courey, Esq., the talented and ami- 
able author of the " Catholic Church in the United States," owes his origin. 

t It would need but a slight change to make Lake George, Lake Jogues, 
and surely its great discoverer deserves it, better than a Hanoverian king. 



96 PERILSOFTHE 

to his generous benefactors, the embassy proceeded to the Mohawk. 
The first castle was reached on the 7th of June ; its name had been 
changed from Ossernenon, to OneSgeSre.* Here Jogues was wel- 
comed as a friend ; a coimcil of Sachems was soon convened ; he 
delivered the presents of the Governor, and, in a discourse, still pre- 
served, urged them to thoughts of peace. He was heard with atten- 
tion, and responded to in a similar strain. According to Indian 
custom, he presented a belt of wampum to the tribe, into which he 
had been incorporated. The Wolf replied that Ondessonk should 
ever find among them his mat to rest upon, and a fire to warm him. 

Another present was yet to be made. Jogues had remarked among 
the spectators, some Onondaga braves, and to these, also, he made a 
present, to smooth the way for the French to their land of lakes. 
This was cheerfully accepted, and Jogues, no longer a temporal envoy, 
turned to his spiritual avocations. The captive Christians were soon 
visited and consoled, the sacraments of baptism or penance conferred 
on many ; but he could not delay as long as his zeal desired. The 
Iroquois pressed his departure, and, on the 16th, he left their castles 
for the St. Lawrence. As he expected to return speedily, he left a 
box containing his little missionary furniture ; the Mohawks showed 
a disinclination to receive it, but, as he opened it in their presence, he 
thought their suspicions dispelled, and went his way. 

On his arrival in Canada, joy, such as had not been known for years, 
quickened every heart, for all had been so suspicious of the Mohawks, 
that public prayers had been constantly ofiered for the missionary 
and his companion. 

His immediate return to the Mohawk was now expected ; but sud- 
denly there came mysterious rumors, and the Superiors paused, 
Jogues must not go.f But, as the summer wore on, all became quiet, 
and, yielding to his entreaty, the Superior permitted him to depart. 

In September, 1646, he left Three Rivers for the last time, with 
John Lalande, and some Hurons. As they went on, they heard 
tidings which seemed positive as to the end of the peace ; some Hurons 
left them, but Jogues went fearlessly on. After the return of these, 

* The sign here used, and frequently employed by Frencli missionaries, 
is the Greek diphthong ou, and was used to express a short Indian sound, 
which, at the beginning of a syllable, answers to oux w, and, at the end, to 
tlie sound of on in Plymouth. 

t Decision in the Superior's journal. 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 97 

the French were left in the greatest anxiety and uncertainty as to 
his fate. Months rolled by, and no tidings reached them ; at last, 
almost at the same time, they heard from some Hm-ons who had 
escaped from the Mohawk, an account of his death, and received 
letters from Governor Kieft, which confirmed it. 

The Indian account, as preserved in the manuscript of Father'Bu- 
teux and Father De Quen, is, that when the missionary was within 
two days' march of the castles, that is, halfway between Lake George 
and the Mohawk, he was met by a war party out against the French. 
The missionary and his companion, were immediately seized, and, in 
spite of his remonstrances, stripped and beaten ; they then turned 
homeward, and Father Jogues was again led naked into Gandawague,* 
the place of his former captivity. Blows were mingled with threats 
of death on the morrow. " You shall not be burned," they cried, 
" you shall die beneath our hatchets, and your heads shall be fixed 
on our palisades, to show your brethren whom we take." In vain 
did he endeavor to show them the injustice of treating him as an 
enemy, when he came the messenger of peace. Deaf to the voice 
of reason, and blinded by superstition, they began their butchery. 
Slicing off the flesh from his arms and back, they cried, " Let us see 
whether this white flesh is the flesh of an Otkon." " I am but a man 
like yourselves," replied the dauntless missionary, " though I fear not 
death nor your tortures. You do wrong to kill me. I have come 
to your country to preserve peace, and strengthen the land, and to 
show you the way to heaven, and you treat me like a dog ! Fear the 
chastisement of Him, who rules both the Indian and the French." 

In spite of their threats, his fate was undecided. Of the three 
great families in each tribe, the Bear was clamorous for blood, while 



* Thus do all the French Relations from this time, name the place of his 
death; it is the same as Caugnawaga, and means " at the rapids." F. Pon- 
cet, in the narrative of his captivity on the Mohawk, makes the place of 
Goupil's death, that of Jogues' also, to be the second village, the Andago- 
ron, or Gandagoron, of F. Jogues. The present Caughnawaga may, there- 
fore, be considered the place of the missionary's death, as we have nothing 
to show that the village in question lay south of the Mohawk, although the 
first village did. Caughnawaga became, too, in the sequel, the centre of 
the most successful Catholic missions among the Iroquois, and is hallowed, 
not only by the death of Jogues and Goupil, but by the birth of the sainted 
Catharine Tehgakwita. It is our holy ground. 



98 PERILS OF THE 

the Tortoise, and his own clan, the Wolf, declared that he should live. 
A council was called in the largest town ; it was there decided that 
he should be spared, but it was too late. 

Towards evening, on the day after his arrival, some Indians of the 
Bear family, came to invite him to supper ; he arose to follow, but 
scarce had he stooped to enter the lodge, when an Indian concealed 
within sprang forward, and dealt him a terrible blow with his hatchet. 
Kiotsaeton, the deputy, who had concluded the peace, threw up his 
arm to avert the blow, but it cut through his arm, and sank deep in 
the head of the missionary. His head was then cut off, and set on 
the palisade. His companion shared his fate. 

The letters from the Dutch authorities at New Amsterdam, which 
reached Quebec on the 4th of June, 1647, are as follows : 

" To M. De Montmagny, Governor of New France. 

"Monsieur, Monsieur, 

I wrote a reply to that which, you were pleased to 
honor me with by Father de Jogues, dated May 15, 
and I sent it to Fort Orange, to deliver it to said Father 
de Jogues ; but he, not having returned as expected, it 
was not immediately sent. This will serve then to 
thank your excellency for your remembrance of me, 
which I shall endeavor to return, if it please God to 
give me an opportunity. I send this through the North- 
ern Section, by the English, or Monsieur d'Aunay, in 
order to advise you of the massacre of F. Isaac de Jogues 
and his companions, perpetrated by the barbarous and in- 
human Maquaas or IrocLUois ; as also of their design to 
surprise you, under color of a visit, as you will see by 
the enclosed, which, though badly written and spelt, will, 
to our great regret, give you all the particulars. I am 
sorry that the subject of this is not more agreeable ; but 
the importance of the affair has not permitted me to be 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 99 

silent. Our Minister above carefully inquired of the 
chiefs of this canaille, their reasons for the wretched act, 
but he could get no answer from them but this, that the 
said Father had left, among some articles that he had 
left in their keeping, a devil who had caused all their 
corn or maize to be eaten up by worms.* This is all I 
can at present write to you. Praying God to vouchsafe to 
guard you and yours from this treacherous nation, and 
assuring you that I am 

Your most humble and obedient servant. 

"William Kieft. 

Fort Amsterdam, in New Netherland, } 
November 14, 1646. 5 

Enclosure. 
Praised be God at Fort Orange ! 

Monsieur, Monsieur La Montagne. 

I have not wished to lose this occasion of letting you 
know my state of health. I am in good health, thank 
God, and pray God that it may be so with you and your 
children. 

I have not much more, but how the French arrived 
the seventeenth of this month, at the Maquaas Fort. 
This is to let you know how those ungrateful barbarians 
did not wait till they were fairly arrived at their cabins^ 

* The allusion here is to Dominie John Megapolensis, to whom the Indians 
brought some of the books and clothes of the murdered missionary. The 
friendship existing between his early representative of the Dutch church in 
New York, and the Catholic missionaries, is one of the most pleasing inci- 
dents in this period. To his kind solicitude and subsequent hospitality, 
two acknowledged that, next to God, they owed their lives. A correspon- 
dence was subsequently carried on between them, and the missionaries lost 
no opportunity of expressing their gratitude, to so eminent a benefactor, 
and his name is deservedly honored by the Catholics of New York. 



100 PERILS OF THE 

where they were stripped all naked, without shirt, only 
they gave each a pair of drawers to cover decency. 

The very day of their coming they began to threaten 
them, and immediately, with fists and clubs, saying you 
shall die to-morrow, do not be astonished, we shall not 
burn you, take courage, we shall strike you with an axe, 
and put your heads on the palisade, that your brothers 
may see you yet, when we take them. You must know 
that it was only the Bear nation that killed them. 
Knowing that the Wolf and Tortoise tribes have done 
all that they could to save their lives, and said against 
the Bear, kill us first, but alas, they are no longer alive. 
Know then that the eighteenth, in the evening, they 
came to call Isaac to supper. He got up and went away 
with the savage to the Bear's lodge, as entering the lodge 
there was a traitor with his hatchet behind the door. 
On entering, he split open his head, and at the same time 
cut off his head and put it on the palisade. The next 
morning early he did the same with the other and threw 
their bodies into the river. Monsieur, I have not been 
able to know or hear from any savage why they killed them. 

Besides this their envy and enterprise, they are going 
with three or four hundred men to try and siu'prise the 
French to do the same as they did to the others, but God 
grant they don't accomplish their design. 

It would be desirable that Monsieur should be warned, 
but there is no way to do it from here. Monsieur, I 
have no more to write, but 1 remain your very humble 
and affectionate servant and fiiend, 

Jan Labatie.* 

* Labatie was the French interpreter at Albany, and bad, with Van Curler, 
visited the Mohawk castles, to rescue the missionary, in 1642. 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 101 

Monsieur, I beg you (give) my baisemains (respects) 
tx) the Governor. 

Written at Fort Orange, Oct. 30, 1646. 

Such was the glorious close of the Missionary's zeal- 
ous career. 

The day after the reception of the letters, a solemn 
Mass of the Dead was offered up at Quebec ; but " we 
could not," says Ragueneau, " bring ourselves to offer 
for him the prayers of the dead. We offered the ador- 
able sacrifice, but in thanksgiving for the favors which 
he had received from God. Laity and religious share our 
sentiments on this happy death, and more were found 
inclined to invoke his aid than to pray for his repose." 

The Catholic clergy of our State may well be proud of 
so illustrious a founder, for he was the first priest who 
entered or labored in the city and State of New York. 

His sufferings and toils now find a place in every his- 
tory of our country ; but we must not consider him as a 
mere explorer of the wilderness, borne up perhaps by 
religious enthusiasm. He was a man of deep and tender 
piety, of extraordinary candor and openness of soul, 
timid by nature, yet of tried courage and heroic firmness ; 
a man who saw all in God, and in all resigned himself 
to the directing hand of Providence. To make God 
known at the expense of personal suffering was his only 
thought. In a word, he was one of those superior men 
who rise from time to time in the Church so distin- 
guished from all around by an impress of sanctity, by a 
prestige of all Christian virtue, as to make us look without 
astonishment on even miraculous powers in their hands. 

These are not wanting in the case of Father Jogues. 
9* 



10^ PERILS OF THE 

Two miracles wrouglit soon after Hs death, seem suf- 
ficiently attested to warrant our belief, and we accord- 
ingly insert a brief account of them. 

"When the holy missionary fell, Kiotsaeton turned 
away from the Mohawk as one disgraced. In the name of 
the tribe he had pledged all to peace, and now that peace 
was broken. He rambled to the wilderness, and after 
many months appeared in the French settlements. He 
told of all that had occurred, and announced his wish 
to dwell with the French. Suspecting some treachery, 
the Commandant of the French post sent him in a 
vessel to Quebec, and for fear of his escape put him in 
irons. The noble chief, beholding himself thus ill- 
treated by those he sought as friends, turned in prayer 
to the holy missionary, whose virtues he honored, and 
whose death he had witnessed. Father Jogues was not 
invoked in vain ; he burst the bonds of the chieftain, 
and the French guards were amazed, in the morning, to 
find him unshackled. When they learned how super- 
natui'ally this had been accomplished, they banished 
their suspicions, and thanked the Almighty, for the 
power which he had bestowed upon his servant. At 
Quebec, the Mohawk chief was honorably received, and, 
proceeding to France, he was fully instructed and 
baptized. 

In France, Father Jogues was regarded as a martyr ; 
and, even in his life-time, things which he had used 
were preserved as relics. At the Ursuline Convent at 
Angers, Father Jogues had one day left a pair of gloves, 
and when, some time after his glorious and happy death, 
Sister Marie Prevosterie was seized with a dangerous 
fever, accompanied by a swelling in the lower extremi- 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 103 

ties. Mother Margaret Poussin, the Superior, urged her 
to have recourse to the holy martyr. The nun did so ; 
applying the relic to the swollen limb ; during the 
night the pain increased, but suddenly, at three o'clock 
in the morning, the pain and swelling vanished, and 
Sister Mary, rising from bed, like one in health, pro- 
ceeded to the choir, to return thanks to God. No 
symptom of disease appeared, till the same day, on the 
following year ; but, on her entering the chapel, to 
return thanks to God, the pain disappeared entirely. 
Of this cure, an account drawn up on the spot, by 
Mother Poussin, Sister Mary herself, and eight other 
nuns, is still preserved; and Father du Creux, who 
had visited the convent with Father Jogues, inserts an 
account in his Latin history of Canada. 

The missionaries of New France ever regarded as a 
favor obtained by their martyred associate, the success 
which the gospel met with at Caughnawaga, the vil- 
lage where he received his crown. Here a Mohawk 
church was first formed, renowned for the piety and fer- 
vor of those who composed it, and here the Christians 
first acquired any weight by numbers. This village 
was, too, the birth-place of Catharine Tehgahkwita, whose 
holiness was attested by so many miracles, and whose 
veneration is still so great in Canada. 



104 PERILS OF THE 



CHAPTER V. 

CAPTIVITY OF FATHER FRANCIS JOSEPH BEESSANI. 

Father Francis Joesph Bressani, whose narrative we are next to 
give, was born at Rome, and, at the early age of fifteen, entered the 
Society of Jesus. After the usual period of probation and study, 
he was engaged in teaching, and successively filled the chairs of Lit- 
erature, Philosophy, and Mathematics ; but, having conversed with 
some members of the French province, then at Rome, he became 
inflamed with zeal for the foreign missions, and was, at last, gratified 
by being selected for that of Canada. He immediately set out for 
France, in order to take shipping for his destination ; and, though 
warned on his way, by a pious nun, of the sufferings that awaited 
him, he resolutely advanced, and embarking, reached Quebec in the 
summer of 1642. He was employed at first in the city, and the 
following year, as missionary to the Algonquins at Three Rivers ; but, 
in the spring of 1644, was appointed to proceed to the Huron 
country, then so destitute of missionaries, and with missionaries so 
destitute of every necessary of life. We have seen how Father 
Jogues courageously exposed himself to procure his companion's 
relief, and how fearfully he suffered in the hands of the terrible 
Mohawks. Two years more had elapsed, and the Superior at Que- 
bec resolved to make another effort to relieve the Hm*on Fathers, — 
to give them clothes to replace their rags, and flour and wine to 
enable them to say Mass. Father Bressani was not unaware of the 
dangers, but set out with a brave heart, on the 27th of April, 1644. 

He was not, however, fully aware of the position of affairs ; the 
whole colony was surrounded by war parties of the enemy, who be- 
set every road, and watched from every highland, like eagles to 
pounce on their prey. Meanwhile, the missionary advanced in his 
canoe from Quebec, with one French companion, and six Huron 
neophytes, of whom we know the names of three : Henry Stontrats, 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 105 

Michael Atioquendoron, and Bernard Gotrioskon. On the third 
day, when near the little Riviere aux Glaises, not far from Fort 
Richelieu, the modern Sorel, they were attacked and made 
prisoners. 

Father Bressani thus describes his capture and subse- 
quent sufferings : — 

Most reverend Father in Jesus Christ. 

Pax Cheisti — I know not whether your Paternity 
will recognize the hand-writing of a poor cripple once 
quite well in body^ and well known to you. His letter 
is badly written and soiled enough, because among other 
miseries the writer has but one whole finger on his right 
hand, and can scarcely prevent the paper's being stained 
by the blood which flows from his yet uncicatrized 
wounds. His ink is diluted gunpowder, and his table 
the bare ground. He writes to you from the land of the 
Iroquois, where he is now a prisoner, and would briefly 
relate the conduct of Divine Providence in his regard 
these later days. 

I set out from Three E-ivers by order of my superiors, 
the 27th of April last, (1644,) in company with six Chris- 
tian Indians, and a young Frenchman, who in three 
canoes were going up to the Huron country. 

On the evening of the first day, the Huron who steered 
our canoe upset us in Lake St. Pierre, by firing at an 
eagle. I did not know how to swim, but two Hurons 
caught me and drew me to the shore where we spent the 
night with our clothes all wet. The Hurons took this 
accident for an ill-omen, and advised me to return to 
Three Rivers, which was only eight or ten miles ofl"; " cer- 
tainly, they cried, this voyage will not prove fortunate." 
As I feared that there might be some superstitious 



106 PERILS OF THE 

thought in this resolution, I preferred to push on to 
another French fort,* thirty miles higher up, where 
we might recruit a little. They obeyed me, and we 
started quite early the next morning, but the snow and 
the bad weather greatly retarded our speed, and compelled 
us to stop at mid-day. 

On the third day, when twenty-two or twenty-four 
miles firom Three Rivers, and seven or eight from Fort 
Richelieu, we fell into an ambuscade of twenty-seven 
Iroquois, who killed one of our Indians, and took the 
rest and myself prisoners. 

We might have fled or even killed some Iroquois, but, 
when I saw my companions taken, I thought it better 
not to forsake them ; I looked upon the disposition of 
our Indians as a mark of the will of God ; choosing, as 
they did, to surrender rather than seek safety by flight. 

After binding us, they uttered horrid cries, *^ sicut 
exultant victores capta prseda," " as conquerors rejoice 
after taking a prey," (Isaias ix. 3,) and made a thanks- 
giving to the Sun for having delivered into their hands, 
a Blackgown, as they call the Jesuits. They entered 
our canoes and seized all their contents, consisting of 
provisions for the missionaries residing among the 
Hurons, who were in extreme want, inasmuch as they 
had for several years received no aid from Europe. 
They next commanded us to sing, then led us to a little 
river hard by, where they divided the booty, and scalped 
the Huron whom they had killed. The scalp was to be 
carried in triumph on the top of a pole. They cut off 
the feet, hands, and most fleshy parts of the body to eat, 
as well as the heart. 

* Fort Richelieu. 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 107 

The fifth, day they made us cross the lake to pass the 
night in a retired but very damp spot. We there began 
to take our sleep tied on the ground in the open air, as 
we continued to do during the rest of our voyage. 

My consolation was to think that we were doing the 
will of God, since I had undertaken this voyage only 
through obedience. I was full of confidence in the 
intercession of the Blessed Virgin, and the help of so 
many souls who prayed for me. 

The following day we embarked on a river,* and after 
some miles they ordered me to throw overboard my 
papers which they had left me till then. They super- 
stitiously imagined that they had made our- canoe burst 
open. They were surprised to see me grieved at this 
loss, who had never shown any regret for all else. We 
were two days in ascending this river to the fallsf which 
compelled us to land and march six days in the woods. 

The next day which was a Friday, (May 6,) we met 
some Iroquois going out to fight. They added some 
blows to the terrible threats they made ; but the account 
which they gave to our keepers, of the death of one of 
their party killed by a Frenchman, was a ground for 
their commencing to treat us with much, greater cruelty. 

At the moment of our capture the Iroquois were dying 
of hunger ; so that in two or three days they consumed 
all our provisions, and we had no food, during the rest of 
the way, but from hunting, fishing, or some wild roots 
which they found. Their want was so great that they 
picked up on the shore a dead beaver already putrefying. 
They gave it to me in the evening to wash in the river, 
but, its stench leading me to believe that they did not 

* Eichelieu or Sorel. t Rapids of Chambly. 



108 PERILS OF THE 

want it, I threw it into the water. This blunder of mine 
I expiated by a vigorous penance. 

I will not here relate all I had to suffer in that voyage. 
It is enough to say that we had to carry our loads in the 
woods by unbeaten roads, where there is nothing but 
stones, thorns, holes, water and snow, which had not yet 
entirely disappeared. We were bare-footed, and were 
left fasting sometimes till three or four o'clock in the 
afternoon, and often during the whole day, exposed to 
the rain, and drenched with the waters of the torrents 
and rivers which we had at times to cross. 

When evening was come, I was ordered to go for 
wood, to bring water, and cook when they had any pro- 
visions. When I did not succeed, or misunderstood 
the orders which I received, blows were not spared ; 
still less when we met other savages going to fish or 
hunt. 

It was not easy for me to rest at night, because they 
tied me to a tree, leaving me exposed to the keen night 
air, still cold enough at that period. 

We at last arrived at the Lake of the Iroquois, (Lake 
Champlain.) We had to make other canoes, in which 
I too was to do my part. After five or six days' sail- 
ing, we landed, and marched for three more. 

The fourth day, which was the fifteenth of May, we 
arrived about 20 o'clock, (3 1-4 P. M.,) and before 
having as yet taken any food, at a river on the banks of 
which some four hundred savages were gathered, fish- 
ing. Hearing of our approach, they came out to meet 
us, and, when about two hundred paces from their cab- 
ins, they stripped off all my clothes, and made me 
march ahead. The young men formed a line to the 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 109 

right and left, each, armed with a club, except the first 
one, who held a knife in his hand. 

When I began my march, this one stopped my pas- 
sage, and, seizing my left hand, cleft it open with his 
knife between the little finger and the next, with 
such force and violence that I thought he would lay 
open my whole hand. The others then began to load 
me with blows till I reached the stage which they had 
erected for our torture. We had to mount on these 
rough pieces of bark, raised about nine palms high, so 
as to give the crowd an opportunity to see and insult us. 
I was all drenched in blood, that streamed from every 
part of my body, and the wind to which we were ex- 
posed was cold enough to congeal it immediately on my 
skin. 

What consoled me much was, to see that God granted 
me the grace of suffering some little pain in this world, 
instead of the incomparably far greater torments, which 
I should have had to suffer for my sins in the next 
world. 

The warriors came next, and and were received by 
the savages with great ceremony, and regaled with the 
best of all that their fishing supplied. 

They bade us sing. Judge whether we could, fast- 
ing, worn down by marching, broken by their blows, 
and shivering from head to foot with cold. 

Shortly after, a Huron slave brought me a little In^ 
dian corn, and a captain who saw me all trembling with 
cold, at last, at my entreaty, gave me back the half of 
an old summer cassock all in tatters, which served only 
to cover, but not to warm me. 

We had to sing till the departure of the braves, and 

10 



110 PERILS OF THE 

were then left at the mercy of the youth, who made ns 
come down from the scaffold where we had been about 
two hours, to make us dance in their fashion, and 
because I did not succeed, nor was indeed able, these 
young people beat me, pricked me, plucked out my 
hair, my beard, etc. 

They kept us five or six days in this place for their 
pastime, leaving us entirely at the discretion or indis- 
cretion of every one. "We were obliged to obey even 
the children, and that in things unreasonable, and often 
contradictory. " Sing," cries one ; " Hold your tongue," 
says another ; if I obeyed the first, the latter tormented 
me. " Stretch out your hand ; I want to burn it." 
Another burnt it because I did not extend it to him. 
They commanded me to take fire between the fingers 
to put in their pipes, full of tobacco, and then let it fall 
on the ground purposely four or five times, one after 
another, to make me burn myself, picking it up each 
time. 

These scenes usually took place at .night; for, 
towards evening, the captains cried in a fearful voice 
around the cabins, '^ Gather ye young men, come and 
caress our prisoners." 

On this, they flocked together, and assembled in some 
large cabin. There the remnant of dress which had 
been given me was torn off, leaving me naked ; then 
some goaded me with pointed sticks ; some burnt me 
with firebrands, or red-hot stones, while others used 
burning ashes, or hot coals. They made me walk 
around the fire on hot ashes, under which they had 
stuck sharp sticks in the ground. Some plucked out 
my hair, others my beard. 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. Ill 

Every nighty after making me sing, and tormenting 
me as above, they 'spent about a quarter of an hour in 
burning one of my nails or a finger. Of the ten that I 
had, I have now but one left whole, and even of that, 
they have torn out the nail with their teeth. One even- 
ing, they took off a nail ; the next day the first joint ; 
the day after, the second. By the sixth time, they 
burned almost six. To the hands merely they applied 
fire and iron more than eighteen times, and, during this 
torment, I was obliged to sing. They ceased torturing 
me only at one or two o'clock at night. They then 
usually left me tied to the ground in some spot exposed 
to the rain, with no bed or blanket, but a small skin 
which did not cover half my body, and often even with- 
out any covering ; for they had already torn up the 
piece of a cassock which had been given me. Yet out 
of compassion they left me enough to cover what 
decency, even among them, requires to be concealed. 
They kept the rest. 

For a whole month, we had to undergo these cruel- 
ties, and greater still, but we remained only eight days 
in the first place. I never would have believed that 
man had so hard a life. 

One night, that they were as usual torturing me, 
a Huron, taken prisoner with me, seeing one of his com- 
panions escape torments by siding against me, suddenly 
cried out, in the middle of the assembled throng, that I 
was a person of rank, and a captain among the French. 
This they heard with ' great attention ; then, raising a 
loud shout in sign of joy, they treated me still worse. 
The next morning, I was condemned to be burnt alive, 
and to be eaten. They then began to guard me more 



lis PERILS OF THE 

narrowly. The men and children never left me alone, 
even for natural necessity, but came tormenting me to 
force me to return to the cabin with all speed, fearing 
that I might take flight. 

We left there the 26th of May ; and, four days after, 
reached the first towns of this nation. In this march 
on foot, what with rain and other hardships, I suffered 
more than I had yet done. The savage then my keeper 
was more cruel than the first. 

I was beaten, weak, ill-fed, half-naked, and slept in 
the open air, tied to a tree or post, shivering all night 
from cold, and the pain caused by my bonds. 

In difficult places, my weakness called for help, but 
it was refused, and, even when I fell, renewing my 
pain, they showered blows on me again to force me to 
march ; for they believed that I did it purposely to lag 
behind, and so escape. 

One day, among others, I fell into a stream and was 
like to have drowned. I got out, I know not how, and 
in this plight had to march nearly six miles more till 
evening, with a very heavy burthen on my shoulders. 
They laughed at myself and my awkwardness in falling 
into the water, yet this did not hinder their burning 
another of my nails that night. 

We at last reached the first village of this nation, and 
here our reception resembled the first, but was still more 
cruel. Besides blows from their fists and clubs, which 
I received in the most sensitive parts of my body — they 
a second time slit open my left hand, between the 
middle and fore fingers, and the bastinade was such, 
that I fell half dead on the ground. I thought I had 
lost my right eye forever. As I did not rise, because I 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 113 

■was unable to do so, they continued to beat me, espec- 
ially on the breast and head. I should surely have 
expired beneath their blows, had not a captain literally 
dragged me out by main strength, up to a stage, made 
like the former one, of bark. There, they soon after, 
cut off the middle and mangled the fore finger of my 
left hand. But at the same moment the rain, attended 
with thunder and lightning, fell in such torrents, that 
the savages retired, leaving us exposed naked to the 
storm, till an Indian, I know not whom, took pity on us, 
and in the evening took us into his cabin. 

"We were at this point, tormented with more cruelty 
and audacity than ever, and without leaving us a mo- 
ment's rest. They forced me to eat all kinds of filth, 
and burnt one of my fingers and the still remaining nails. 
They dislocated my toes, and ran a fire-brand through 
one of my feet. I know not what they did not attempt 
another time, but I pretended to faint, so as to seem not 
to see an indecent action. 

After glutting their cruelty here, they sent us into 
another village, nine or ten miles further. Here they 
added to the torments of which I have spoken, that of 
hanging me up by the feet, either in cords or with 
chains, given them by the Dutch. By night I lay 
stretched on the ground, naked and bound, according 
to their custom, to several stakes, by the feet, hands, and 
neck. The torments which I had to suffer in this state, 
for six or seven nights, were in such places, and of such 
a description, that it is not lawful to describe them, nor 
could they be read without blushing. I never closed 
my eyes those nights, which, though the shortest in the 
year, seemed to me most long. My God ! what will 
10* 



114 PERILS OF THE 

Purgatory then be ? This consideration greatly alleviated 
my pains. 

After such a treatment, I became so infectious and 
horrible, that all drew off from me as from carrion, 
approaching me only to torment. Scarce could I find 
one charitable enough to put some food in my mouth, 
for I could use neither of my hands, which were enor- 
mously swollen, and a mass of corruption. Thus I 
had to suffer famine too. I was reduced to eat raw 
Indian corn, not without danger of my health. Neces- 
sity made me even find some relish in chewing chalk, 
although it was impossible to swallow it. 

I was covered with vermin, unable to deliver or shield 
myself from them. "Worms were breeding in my 
wounds, and one day, more than four fell from one of 
my fingers. 

^' I have said to rottenness. Thou art my father ; to 
worms, you are my mother and my sister." — Job xvii. 
14. " I became a burthen to myself," so that, had I 
consulted but my own feelings, I should have " esteemed 
that to die was gain." 

An abscess had formed in my right leg, in consequence 
of the blows I had received there, and my frequent 
falls. It gave me no rest, especially after I was no 
longer anything but skin and bone, with no bed but 
the bare ground. The savages had, though unsuccess- 
fully, several times endeavored to open it with sharp 
stones, causing me most intense pain. The apostate 
Huron, who had been taken with me, had now to act 
as my surgeon. The day, which, according to my 
ideas, was the eve of my death, he opened it with four 
gashes of a knife. The blood and matter gushed out 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 115 

SO abundantly, and emitted such a stench., that it drove 
all the savages from the cabin. 

I desired and expected death, though not without 
experiencing some horror for the torture by fire. Yet 
I prepared to the best of my power, commending my- 
self to the heart of the Mother of mercy, who is truly, 
the "Lovely, admirable, powerful, clement Mother, the 
comfortress of the afflicted." She was, after God, the 
only refuge of a poor sinner, abandoned by all creatures, 
in a foreign land, in this place of horror and vast soli- 
tude, without speech to give utterance to his thoughts, 
without a friend to console him, without sacraments to 
fortify him, without any human remedy to alleviate his 
woes. 

The Huron and Algonquin prisoners, (these latter are 
called our Indians,) instead of consoling me, were the 
first to make me suffer in order to please the Iroquois. 
I did not see our good William Couture until after my 
deliverance. The child captured with me had been car- 
ried off from the moment that they perceived me making 
him say his prayers, which displeased them. They tor- 
mented him also, and, though he was but twelve or 
thirteen years old, they tore off five of his nails with 
their teeth. On reaching their country, they had tied 
his wrists with small cords, drawn as tight as they could 
so as to give him exquisite pain. They did all this 
before my eyes to augment my suffering. O! how 
differently we then value many things which are usually 
so esteemed ! God grant that I may remember and profit 
by it. 

My days then were thus filled up with sufferings, and 
my nights were spent without repose ; this caused me 



116 PERILS OF THE 

even to count, in tlie montli, five days more than there 
were, but, looking at the moon one night, I corrected 
my error. 

I was ignorant why the savages so long deferred my 
death. They told me that it was to fatten me before 
they ate me ; though they took no means to do so. 

My fate was at last decided. On the nineteenth of 
June, which I deemed the last of my life, I begged a 
captain to put me to death, if possible, otherwise than 
by fire ; but another chief exhorted him to stand firm in 
the resolution already taken. The first then told me 
that I was to die neither by fire nor by any other torture. 
I could not believe it, nor do I know whether he spoke 
in earnest, yet true it was. Such was the will of God, 
and of the Virgin Mother, to whom I acknowledge my- 
self indebted for my life, and, what I esteem more highly, 
for a great fortitude amid my woes. May it please the 
Divine Majesty that this redound to his greater glory 
and my good. 

The savages themselves were extremely surprised at 
this result, so contrary was it to their intentions, as they 
avowed to me, and as the Dutch have written. I was 
therefore given, with all the usual ceremonies, to an old 
woman to replace her grandfather, formerly killed by 
the Hurons, but instead of having me burnt as all desired, 
and had already resolved, she redeemed me from their 
hands at the expense of some beads, which the French 
call porcelaine.* 

I live here in the midst of the shadows of death. 
They can be heard speaking of nothing but murder and 

* Called in English, Wampum, 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 117 

assassination. They have recently murdered one of their 
own countrymen in his own cabin, as useless and unwor- 
thy to live. 

I have always something to suffer ; my wounds are 
still open ; and many of the savages look upon me 
with no kindly eye. True then it is that we cannot 
live without crosses ; yet this is like sugar in com- 
parison with the past. 

The Dutch gave me hopes of my ransom, and that of 
the boy taken prisoner with me. God's will be done 
in time and eternity ! My hope will be still more con- 
firmed, if you grant me a share in your holy sacrifices 
and prayers, and those of our Fathers and Brothers, 
especially of those who knew me in other days. 

Territory of the Iroquois, July 15, 1644. 



The missionary, at that period, found no opportunity of sending 
the letter, so that it reached Europe, together with others which we 
insert here, in the order in which they were written. 



I have found no one, says the second letter, to 
take charge of the inclosed, so that you will receive 
it at the same time as the present one, which will 
give you the news of my deliverance from, the hands 
of the savages, whose captive I was. I am indebted 
for it to the Dutch, and they obtained it with no great 
difficulty, for a very moderate ransom, on account of 
the little value which the Indians attached to me, from 
my unhandiness at every thing, as well as from their 
conviction that my sores would never heal. 

I have been twice sold, first to the old woman who 



118 PEEILS OF THE 

was to have me burnt^ and next to the Dutch dear 
enough, that is, for about fifteen or twenty doppies * 

I chanted my going out from Egypt the nineteenth 
of August, that is, the third day of the Octave of the 
Assumption of the Blessed Virgin, whom I regarded as 
my liberator. I was a prisoner among the Iroquois for 
four months ; but small is that compared to what my 
sins deserve. I was unable, during my captivity, to 
render to any of those wretched beings, in return for 
the evil they did me, the good which was the object of 
my desires ; that is, impart to them a knowledge of the 
true God. To supply my ignorance of their language, 
I endeavored, by means of a prisoner as my interpreter, 
to instruct a dying old man ; but pride made him deaf 
to my words. He replied, that a man of his age and 
rank should teach others, not receive their lessons. I 
asked him whither he would go after his ^eath. " To 
the west," he answered ; and then began to recount the 
fables and follies which unfortunately, blinded by the 
devil, they take for the most solid truths. 

I baptized ^none but a Huron. They had brought 
him where I was to burn him, and those who guarded 
me told me to go and see him. I did so with some 
reluctance ; for they had told me that he was not one 
of our Indians, and that I could not understand him. 
I advanced towards the crowd which opened, and let 
me approach this man, even then all disfigured by 
torments. He was stretched on the bare ground, with 
nothing to rest his head upon. Seeing a stone near me, 
I pushed it with my foot towards his head, to serve him 

* A doppie is a piece of gold worth about three dollars and a half. 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 119 

as a pillow. He then looked up at me attentively, and 
some hairs still left in my beard, or some other mark, 
made him suppose I was a foreigner. *^ Is not this 
man," said he to his keeper, " the white man whom 
you hold captive ? " Being answered affirmatively, he 
again cast towards me a most piteous look. '' Sit down, 
brother, by me," said he, " I would speak with thee." 
I sat down, though not without horror, such was the 
odor that exhaled from his already half-roasted body. 
Happy to be able to understand him a little, because he 
spoke Huron, I asked him what he desired, hoping to 
be able to profit by the occasion to instruct and bap- 
tize him. To my great consolation, I was anticipated 
by the answer. " What dost thou want ? " said I. 
" I ask but one thing, baptism, as quickly as possible, 
for the time is short." I wished to question him as 
to the faith, so as not to administer a sacrament with 
precipitation ; but I found him perfectly instructed, 
having been already received among the Catechumens 
in the Huron country. I therefore most willingly bap- 
tized him, to his and my own great satisfaction. Though 
I had administered this sacrament by a kind of strat- 
agem, using the water which they had given me for 
him to drink, the Iroquois perceived it. The captains 
were at once informed, and, with angry threats, drove 
me from the hut, and then began to torture him as 
before. 

They finally burnt him alive the next morning, and, 
as I had baptized him, they brought all his members, 
one by one, into the cabin where I was. Before my 
eyes, they skinned and ate the feet and hands. The 
husband of the mistress of the lodge threw at my feet 



1^0 PERILS OF THE 

the victim's head, and left it there a long while, reproach- 
ing me with what I had done, and exclaiming : " Well, 
now, of what use were all thy enchantments ? " — allud- 
ing to the baptism and prayers which I had offered with, 
him. " Have they rescued him from death ? " 

At that moment, I felt a deep regret that I was una- 
ble, from ignorance of their language, to speak to them 
of the virtue and effects of baptism on so fair an oppor- 
tunity, but the hour was not yet come. Their sins, 
and, above all, their pride, present a great obstacle 
to the grace of God, " who hath regard to the hum- 
ble, and looketh at the proud from afar." They all 
esteem themselves as heroes and warriors, and look 
with contempt on the Europeans, whom they consider 
as a vile and cowardly race. They believe themselves 
destined to subjugate the world. " They are become 
vain in their thoughts, and, as God has abandoned 
them to the desires of their hearts," (Eomans i. 21,) 
your prayers, your sacrifices, and the prayers of the 
whole society, which is ever praying for the conver- 
sion of infidels, will be able to induce the Almighty 
to cast a look of pity on them, and, at the same time, 
on me, especially amid the perils of the sea, to which 
I am about to be exposed. Be assured that, sound 
or cripple, I shall ever be. Father, your unworthy and 

humble servant, 

Francis Joseph Bressani. 

New Amsterdam, August 31st, 1644. 

The third letter is written from the isle of Rhe, under date of th& 
sixteenth of November, of the same year. The missionary soHcits 
prayers to thank God for his deUverance, not only from the hands of 
the Iroquois, but also from the fury of the sea where they had met 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 121 

with terrible storms, and, among others one, says the letter of the 
twenty-seventh of September, which was frightful. It lasted more 
than twenty-four hours, and compelled them to cut away the vesseFs 
masts. Then h« adds : 



** A Turkish, corsair pursued us for several days 
together. My companions on board were Huguenots, 
"who did not fail to be displeased with, the very name of 
a Papist and a Jesuit. The cabin where I lay had but 
four partitions, and its size did not permit one to stretch 
out at full length. We ran out of provisions, and even 
of water, on the passage ; but, if you except the sea- 
sickness, which did not spare me, I was always well, 
and, after fifty-five days of difficult navigation, I reached 
the isle of Rhe in the garb of a sailor, in better health 
than I have enjoyed during the eighteen years and 
more that I have been in the Society. I was obliged to 
beg alms on landing, which was a greater interior con- 
solation to me than can be imagined, thank God." 

I omit a thousand other particulars, which do not belong to the 
dangers from the Iroquois, as the circumstances of his ransom, the 
welcome given him by the Dutch, etc. ; but I cannot omit here his 
last letter which he wrote after his return to France, at the instance 
of several persons, persuaded that this digression will afford a just 
subject of edification. It is as follows : 

" You have put me some questions as to my captivity 
in the country of the Iroquois, and so earnestly, and 
adducing such motives, that, from the consideration I 
owe you, I cannot decline answering them. I will do 
it then with my usual frankness. 

First Question. Why did the Iroquois maltreat me 
11 



122 PERILS OF THB 

SO ? Because they looked npoii me as their enemy, not 
for being a European, for they are friends of the Dutch 
Europeans like ourselves ; but because we are the 
friends and protectors of the Indians, whom we labor 
to convert, and with whom they refuse peace, while we 
maintain it, to gain them to God. So that the first 
cause of this hatred, is the faith which obliges us to 
remain united to our neophytes, even at the peril of 
our life, and to become indirectly the enemies of the 
Iroquois. '' If you love our souls as much as you say," 
said the Huron, " love our bodies too, and let us form 
but one nation. Our enemies shall be yours ; we shall 
share the same dangers." 

Add to this the hatred which the Iroquois have for 
our holy faith, which they call, and believe to be, witch- 
craft. This is the reason why, quite recently, they pro- 
longed for eight days, instead of one only, to which 
they commonly limit it, the torture of a Christian 
Indian, who publicly gloried in his faith. His name 
was Joseph Onahre ; he expired amidst the most cruel 
torments. 

They especially hold in horror the sign of the cross, 
because the Dutch have made them believe it to be a 
real superstition. It was the cause of the death of 
Rene Goupil, the companion of Father Jogues, and the 
motive that induced them to separate from me, the boy 
whom I was teaching to make it with other ]»rayers. 

Yet even though the faith, which we seek to intro- 
duce into these parts be the cause of the hatred and 
tortures of the Iroquois, I could not have hesitated to 
brave these dangers for the good of souls. In fact, if 
we deem it a meritorious act to brave the pestilence. 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 1S3 

even with the sole object of relieving the body^ should 
I not deem myself but too happy, did God grant me 
the grace to lose my life in succoring and converting 
souls. All those who come to Canada, and especially 
those sent among the Hurons, face these dangers ; and 
if, from fear of Iroquois torments, or other motive, no 
one possessed courage enough for this, that ill-starred 
nation would end with being entirely forsaken, and 
deprived of all spiritual succor. Worthy, then, of 
envy are those who there find their death. To speak 
the truth, what consoled me, was less this consideration 
than the thought that God and obedience had placed 
me there. I implored him to accept my sacrifice, as 
he accepted that of the good thief, finding myself more 
guilty than that happy crucified one, and punished like 
him, but for sins greater than his. I called to mind 
the doctrine of the Council of Trent, (Session 14, 
chapter 9,) which says that the accepting of sufferings, 
even though inevitable and necessary, doth satisfy the 
justice of God, and the chastisement which sins deserve. 
I should have been reluctant to answer the second 
question, which concerns my interior, did I not know 
that it is glorious "to reveal and confess the works of 
God." " Opera Dei revelare et coiifiteri, honorificum 
est,^^ and did I not hope thereby to cooperate with your 
devotion. I shall tell you then, in all sincerity, what 
are the three graces and signal favors which God vouch- 
safed me at this time. The first is, that though I was 
every moment within an inch of death, which was con- 
stantly before my eyes, my mind always enjoyed the 
same liberty, and I was able to do each action with due 
reflection ; if, then, I have erred in anything, it cannot 



IM PERILS OF THE 

be attributed to inadvertence, which might have resulted 
from the weakness of my head, or the trouble which 
fear inspires, but to an inexcusable malice. My body 
was in an utter helplessness. I could scarcely open 
my lips to say Our Father, while interiorly I acted 
with as much liberty and facility as I do now. 

The second grace which I obtained, was to prepare 
my soul, so that it accommodated itself, that in propor- 
tion to the dangers and sorrows which increased around 
me, my interior dispositions changed, and I felt less 
horror for death and the fire. 

The third, was the excluding from my heart even 
the slightest feeling of indignation against my torturers, 
and the inspiring me even with sentiments of compas- 
sion for them. The grace was measured by my weak- 
ness and little virtue. I said to myself, on seeing them, 
'' This man (would to God it were given to me to res- 
cue him by my blood !) will be far differently tormented 
in hell, while I hope to succeed in effacing some of my 
sins by the slight sufferings I undergo." He is then 
to be pitied, not I. 

I have thus answered your second question. 

Third. I take up the third question, which is. What 
were my occupations, and what consolation I found, or 
what was sent me from heaven in my miseries ? I had 
formerly relished St. Bernard's paraphrase on these 
words of the Apostle, " Non sunt condigna passio7iis," 
etc., and in that hour it afforded me much consolation. 
" The sufferings of this life bear no proportion to my 
past faults, which God pardons me, to the consolations 
which he bestows on me here below, or to the glory 
which he promises me hereafter." Surely my suffer- 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 1^5 

ing were a mere nothing compared to so immense a 
gain. Momentaneum et leve tribulationis nostrce. 

Yet do not imagine that I was insensible to pain. I 
felt it acutely, but I had inwardly such strength to bear 
it, that I was astonished at myself, or rather at the 
adundance of grace, a favor, I believe, like that which 
David experienced, when he said. In trihulatione dila- 
tasti mihi — " In tribulation thou hast dilated my heart." 
I esteem this grace more highly than that of my deliv- 
erance, et de omni tribtdatione eripuisti me, "and from 
every tribulation hast thou rescued me." 

The goodness of God, whom we have offended, must 
be very great, since he is satisfied with such a trifle for 
a debt so immense, and accepts the pains of this life, 
instead of the torments of purgatory. " How good is 
the God of Israel to the pure of heart ! " and, what is 
greater still, to the wicked in heart. Quam bonus 
Israel Deus his qui recti sunt et his qui iniquo sunt 
corde. 

Yet some interior pains I did feel, though not at the 
time of my torture, which I dreaded much more before 
I suffered them than while I actually underwent them. 
Often, indeed, I found them more horrid, when gazing 
upon others endure them, than when enduring them 
myself. 

My interior pains were doubts as to faitt, a tempta- 
tion which I now believe common at the hour of death, 
not only by my own experience, but especially because 
the reason becomes clearer as each one dies. Man, 
then, seeing himself actually, at that moment, forsaken, 
as it were, by creatures, can find consolation only in 
the thought of God and a paradise, that await him. 



1^6 PERILS OF THE 

Then the fiend, to trouble our joy, weaken our hope, 
and, to use the scriptural expression, mingle our wine 
with water, (vinum tuum mixtum est aqua^) raises 
doubts on all these truths. But the goodness of God, 
who '^ bringeth down to hell, and bringeth back again," 
(1 Kings ii. 6,) — deducit ad inferos et reducit — did not 
forsake me. It suggested for myself the advice I would 
myself have given another on such an occasion, and I 
found my soul filled with great peace and tranquilHty. 
I made a journey of several miles one day, reciting 
no other prayer than the Creed, and experienced so 
much consolation, that this march, otherwise painful, 
both in itself, and on account of a very heavy load that 
I carried, seemed to me quite short. 

As to my occupations, you speak either of interior, of 
which I have not spoken, or of exterior, and these were 
given me by my tormentors. I passed a great part of 
the day in their cabins, or on their stages, where I was 
a but for the insults and railleries, not of men merely, 
but of children, who left me not one or two hours even 
of rest, day or night. The usual conversation was — 
^^ "We will burn thee ; we will eat thee ; I '11 eat a 
foot — I a hand," etc. 

You wish to know, in the fourth place, whether I 
did not find some Indians more compassionate towards 
me, or at least less cruel, than the others. I have no 
doubt that such there were ; but none dared give ex- 
pression to this feeling for fear of contempt ; for, among 
them, it is a proof of bravery to torment a prisoner cru- 
elly, and a mark of cowardice to show compassion for 
his sufferings. 

One evening, when, for the last time, they were 



{ 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 1^7 

burning the third finger of my right hand, instead of 
singing, as they bade me, I intoned the Miserere, but 
in so horrible a voice that I alarmed them. They all 
listened with attention, and the one that was burning 
me then remitted some of the cruelty with which he 
had begun ; yet he continued for fear of being laughed 
at. I thought my last hour had come, so great was the 
excess of my pain. I began to exhort our Huron pris- 
oners to suffer with courage, and, above all, by a senti- 
ment of faith, telling them that the hope of Paradise 
delivered me from the fear of death. They promised 
to do so, and two of them, who were soon after roasted 
at a slow fire and eaten, kept their word. I had heard 
their confessions before their execution. 

It is a great torment to be bound tight with cords, 
and I had not yet well understood it, when meditat- 
ing on the passion of our Lord. In this position, it 
was absolutely impossible for me to close my eyes, and 
yet they left me thus the whole night. At daybreak, 
I prayed some one to unbind me ; if he perceived 
that the eyes of others were upon him, he ridiculed, 
instead of relieving me, so as not to draw upon him- 
self the reproach of cowardice, but, when he could do 
it unseen, I was actually relieved. 

Certain it is that, had they all been cruel to the same 
degree, I should have died of hunger ; for, not having 
the use of my hands, food had to be given to me. 
Many, instead of putting into my mouth the kind of 
polenta, which was my food, let it fall on my breast, 
or threw hot coals on my skin ; but others, moved with 
compassion, came and threw them off on the ground, and 
gave me, though sparingly, wherewith to maintain life. 



128 PERILSOFTHE 

The last question was this : " "Why did I not labor to 
render them more humane ? " To seek to render them 
more humane is to provoke them. I told them, one 
day, that my bonds were too tight, and that I should 
die by that torture, and not by fire as they threatened. 
The consequence was, that they drew the cords tighter. 
" Well," said they, then laughing at me, " are you 
better off now ? " making, as is their wont, a frequent 
use of bitter irony. 

I have forgotten to say that they did not leave me 
in the evening till I expected to die that very night, 
so feeble did I feel ; yet, by a special providence of 
God, no sooner had they unbound me in the morn- 
ing than I closed my eyes, and dreamt that I was per- 
fectly healed. Although I endeavored to banish this 
thought, as a temptation capable of diverting me from 
the salutary thought of death, and, in sleep, several 
times made the reflection that it was but a dream, I 
was unable to convince myself of it, and, on waking, 
examined whether it was really so or not. 

This thought, dream though it was, so roused my 
courage that, after one or two hours' rest, I felt full of 
life and vigor to suffer as I did the first day. 

Here ends the letter. 

The missionary who wrote this letter can give still 
another proof of the dangers which beset these voyages 
from this race of brigands. In four voyages, which 
obedience and the wants of the mission required him to 
make at different times into those parts, he fell in with 
them three times, and was wounded by them anew. 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 129 

Thus does Father Bressani modestly, and under the cover of 
an anonyme, relate his captivity and perils ; but we will be pardoned 
for adding a few words as to his subsequent labors. 

Father Bressani had not, however, abandoned his Canadian mission j 
sufferings had not alarmed him ; they only bound him more closely to 
that field of his choice. He returned immediately to Quebec, and, 
having been present at a treaty of peace, concluded with the Mohawks 
on the 17th of July, 1645, set out in the fall for the Huron mission. 
" There," says Father Raguenau, then Superior of the INIissionaries in 
that country, " his mutilated head, his mangled hands, his body cov- 
ered with wounds, rendered him, from his very coming, a better 
preacher than us all." He remained here, laboring with all zeal, till 
1648, when, foremost in the hour of danger, he set out for Quebec 
with a party, who attempted to reach Quebec, and open a communi- 
cation with that post, for the Iroquois were again ravaging the coun- 
try. Almost in sight of Three Rivers they were attacked by the 
Mohawks, but the Hurons were prepared, and the assailants paid 
bitterly for their rashness, the whole Mohawk party was taken, cut to 
pieces, and the Hurons and their missionaries entered Three Rivers in 
triumph. Proceeding to Quebec, Father Bressani was joined by 
Father (jrabriel Lalemant, the future martyr. Father James Bonin, 
Father Adrian Grelon, who died in China, and Father Adrian Daran, 
and with these proceeded, in August, to the Huron country. Arriv- 
ing, they found that the Iroquois, both Mohawks and Senecas, had 
burst upon the Huron villages, destroyed Teananstayae, and massacred 
the missionary, Father Anthony Daniel. The missionaries rallied the 
survivors around them, but when, in the following spring, the Iroquois 
destroyed the towns of St. Ignatius and St. Louis, butchering Father 
Lalemant and Father Brebeuf, the Huron nation dispersed. Father 
Bressani proceeded with a part to an island on Lake Huron, now called 
Charity Island, but, as sickness and want soon thinned their ranks, he 
descended to Quebec again, in the fall of 1649, with a part of them. 
He reached his destination, but could never return j in the following 
year, however, he set out with a strong party to escort' to Quebec all 
the Hurons who would emigrate to the Lower St. Lawrence. On 
the Ottawa they were attacked by the Mohawks. Father Bressani, 
who gave the alarm, received three arrows in the head, and narrowly 
escaped death. The Mohawks were entirely routed, and soon after 



130 PERILS OF THE 

Father Bressani and his party met the Hurons descending, with all 
their missionaries. 

The Hm-on mission being thus in a measure destroyed, two Fathers 
sufficed for the few who survived, and settled near Quebec. Many 
were thus unemployed, and such as were worn down by toil and suf- 
fering were sent back to Europe. Father Bressani was one of these. 
He set out for France on the first of November, 1650, and, recovering 
his health and strength, labored many years as a zealous missionary 
in the cities and towns of Italy, with a success due less to his eloquence ' 
than to his quality of a Confessor of Jesus Christ, bearing the glorious 
marks of his apostolate. 

In 1653, he published an account of the Huron mission, of which a 
translation has recently appeared at Montreal : * and at last, full of 
years and merits, he retired to Florence, and died in the novitiate in 
that city on the 9th of September, 1672. 

* Breve Relatione d'Aleuni Missioni. Maeerata, 1653. Relation Abregeo 
de Quelques Missions par le Rev. Pere F. J. Bressani, traduit par le Rev. 
Pere Felix Martin, S. J. Montreal, 1852. 



VOYAGES 



REV. FATHER EMMANUEL CRESPEL, 



CANADA, 

A N S .H I S 

SHIPWEECK, 

WHILE RETURNING TO FRANCE, 

PUBLISHED BY 

SIEUR LOUIS CRESPEL, 

HIS BROTHEB. 



FRANKFORT-ON-THE-MEYN. 

1742. 



Lt-& 



DEDICATION 



133 



DEDICATION. 

To His Excellency, Don Christoplier de Portocarrero, 
Guzman Luna, Pacheco, Enriquez de Almanza, Eunez 
de Villalpando, Aragon and Monrey ; Count of Mon- 
tijo, Lord of the town of Moquer ; Marquis of Al- 
gava, Yillanueva del Fresno and of Barcarota ; Count 
of Fuentiduena ; Marquis of Yalderabano, Ossera, and 
Castas eda ; Lord of the towns of Adrada, Guetor- 
daxar, Yierlas, Crespa and Palacios ; Grand Marshal 
of Castile ; Grand Bailli of Seville ; Hereditary Gov- 
ernor of the Castle and Fortress of Guadix ; Princi- 
pal Captain of the Perpetual Company of a Hundred 
Gentlemen attached to the House of Castile ; Gentle- 
man of the Chamber to His Catholic Majesty ; Presi- 
dent of the Supreme Council of the Indies ; Grand 
Esquire of the Queen ; Knight of the Illustrious Order 
of the Golden Fleece ; Grandee of Spain ; Ambassador 
Extraordinary of His Catholic Majesty to His Imperial 
Majesty : 

My Lord, — In presenting the work to your Excel- 
lency, I venture to assure you that the subject is truly 
worthy of you. The obedience and submission of Abra- 
ham to the orders of Providence, the zeal and courage 
of Moses, in leading the Israelites into the desert, the 
patience and resignation of Job, in suffering the evils by 
which God wished to try him, and — ^what is more admi^ 

12 



134 DEDICATION. 

rable — ^the vigilance, and especially the charity, with- 
out which St. Paul deemed himself nothing, are displayed 
in the course of this relation which I present to Your 
Excellency. 

Can so many virtues displease Your Lordship, who 
admires them in others, and who, ever disposed to prac- 
tise them, merit having them admired in yourself ? 

This work belongs, then, to Your Excellency, and 
should belong to no other. I do my duty in dedicating 
it to you, and what pleasure have I not in doing my duty ? 

This would be the place. My Lord, to do justice to 
all the qualities which so advantageously distinguish 
Your Excellency's mind and heart ; but I fear to wound 
that modesty which renders these qualities still more 
admirable. 

I shall content myself, then. My Lord, with saying, 
that all who have the honor to belong to you, bless 
every instant of the day which crowned their felicity in 
bringing them to Your Excellency. 

Their attachment is your eulogy, the only one worthy 
of men who, like you. My Lord, make it an occupation 
to complete the happiness of those who belong to you. 

This is not all. My Lord. No one can know you 
without gladly paying a tribute of his heart and admi- 
ration ; the tribute we cannot but pay to virtue. 

May Your Excellency, then, be ever like yourself ; 
may you, for the glory of your august Master, and the 
good of your country, be ever in the ministry, which you 
discharge with so much distinction. Men like you. 
My Lord, should never die, and death could do nothing 
against Your Excellency, if public desii'es were accom- 
plished. 



DEDICATION. 185 

For myself, My Lord, what thanks do I not owe 
Father Crespel, my brother, for having enabled me to 
tell the world that all my wishes centre in desiring 
Your Excellency's preservation ; and beg you to accept 
the most profound respect with which 
I have the honor to be. My Lord, 

Your Excellency's most humble and 
Most obedient servant, 

Louis Crespel. 



136 editor's preface. 



EDITOR'S PREFACE. 

This work would surely need no preface, had the 
author intended it for publication ; but, as his only aim 
in writing was to satisfy my curiosity, I cannot forbear 
giving the reader my reasons for publishing it. I had 
shown the manuscript to several persons whom taste 
and talent distinguish more than their rank and birth ; 
all advised me to present it, assuring me that the public 
would thank me for doing so. My affection for my 
brother, and my desire of pleasing the public, convinced 
me that I ought to follow this counsel ; I hope my ready 
acquiescence will not be treated as folly or blindness. At 
all events, my motives were laudable, and I am sure of 
finding favor with those who do not seek to cast ridicule 
on men's intentions. 

I also believe that I should tell how and for what 
reason these letters were written ; this will be an ex- 
cuse for Father Crespel, my brother, if his style seems 
to deserve censure, and if he does not seem to enter into 
sufficient detail. 

I bad long pressed him to tell me what had happened 
to him in his voyages ; for several months he resisted ; 
but, wearied doubtless with my frequent importunity, 
he sent me, by one of my brothers now in Russia, a 
Relation which I found too succinct. I complained of 



editor's preface. 13T 

liis indolence in drawing me up only a journal ; I asked 
him for something more circumstantial, and, to induce 
him not to refuse me, I told him — what was true — ^that 
many persons to whom I had read his letter, regretted 
that he had made it so short, and that they had begged 
me to entreat him to send me a more detailed Relation 
of his travels in the New World, and his shipwreck 
while returning to France ; he yielded to my wish, and 
during his stay at Paderborn, wrote the letters which I 
publish. 

It would be wronging my brother to suspect him of 
exaggeration in his narrative. Those by whom he has 
the honor of being known, are aware what a lover of 
truth he is, and that he would die sooner than betray or 
disguise it ; moreover, the character with which he is 
invested does not suppose an impostor, and I can say 
that my brother has never rendered himself unworthy 
of it. Lastly, there are still many companions of his 
travels and his shipwreck ; would an honest man expose 
himself to be contradicted by one who underwent the 
same fatigues, and ran the same dangers ? It is all that 
one interested in imposing could do, and even he 
would EXPOSE himself only tremblingly, and in a coun- 
try remote from all who could expose his knavery. 

When I had the pleasure of seeing my brother in 
this city, at the passage of the French army, com- 
manded by Marshal de Mailleboy, I had no little trouble 
in obtaining his permission to publish the letters ; they 
were written for me alone; and it is known that, 
among brothers, no ceremony exists. My proposition 
at first shocked him All men have their share of self- 
love ; they do not like to speak before all the world 

12* 



138 editor's preface. 

as they speak to their friends ; the fear of finding crit- 
ics makes them labor with much more care on works 
intended for the public, and it is rendering one's self 
criminal in their eyes to expose to broad day what was 
made only to be seen privately. My brother, how- 
ever, at last gave way. I showed him that a man in 
his state should lay aside all self-love ; and I promised 
him, at the same time, to make known his repugnance 
to ofiering a work which he deemed unworthy of him. 
He allowed me then to publish his Relation, on my 
giving my word that I would neither add nor retrench 
any circumstance. I was far from thinking otherwise ; 
so that all may rest assured that all they are about to 
read is conformable to the most exact truth, and that no 
one may alter it by imagined additions, or impose on 
the public, I shall take care to sign all copies which 
agree with the original. 



PERILS OF THE OCEAN, ETC. 139 



CHAPTER VI. 

TOTAGES AND SHIPWRECKS OF FATELER EMMANUEL CRESPEL, 
RECOLLECT MISSIONARY IN NEW YORK, CANADA, AND THE WEST. 

LETTER I. 

My Dear Brother : — ^You have so long evinced a 
desire to know the details of the voyage I formerly 
made to Canada, that fearing to give you grounds for 
suspecting my friendship, if I continued to decline 
acceding to your desire, I directed one of my brothers to 
send you a relation of all that befel me. You tell me 
that you have received it, and, at the same time, com- 
plain that it is too succinct, and that you would be glad 
to have it more detailed. I love you too well not to 
make it a pleasure to please you, but I will divide my 
relation into several letters. A single one would be too 
long, and would doubtless tire you. The mind does not 
always keep pace with the heart. I would perhaps 
become tedious if I spoke too long of other subjects 
than our friendship. 

Do not expect to find this relation sustained by eleva- 
tion of style, force of expression, and varied imagery ; 
these graces of genius are not natural to me, and besides 
scarcely suit anything but fiction. Truth has no need 
of ornament, to be relished by those who really love it ; 



140 PERILS OP THE 

it is even difficult to recognize it, when presented with 
the dress usually thrown around the false to give it 
some resemblance to her. 

You must remember, that towards the close of the 
year 1723, I was still at Avesnes, in Haynaut ; I then 
received, from my Superiors, permission to go to the 
New World, as I had long asked to do, and indeed, it 
would have been a great mortification had I been 
refused. 

I set out, then, on the 25th of Januaiy, 17 24c ; pass- 
ing by Cambray, I had the pleasure of embracing you, 
and, on arriving at Paris, took an obedience from the 
Rev. Father Julian Guesdron, Provincial of St. Denis, 
on whom the missions of New France depend. 

It would be useless to speak to you of Paris ; you 
know it better than I, and you know by experience that 
it deserves, in every way, to be the first city in the 
world. 

On the first of May, I started for Pochelle, which I 
reached on the 18th of that month. I did not make a 
long stay there, for, after providing all that was necessary 
for the voyage, I embarked on the King's vessel, the 
Chameau, commanded by the naval lieutenants, de Tylly 
and Meschain, 

The 24th of July, the day that we set sail, was 
marked by the death of Mr. Robert, just going out as 
Intendant of Canada. He was a gallant fellow, appar- 
ently endowed with every quality needed to fill worthily 
the post confided to him. 

After a rather pleasant voyage of two months and a 
half, we arrived before Quebec; I remained there till 
1726, and remarked nothing in particular, beyond what 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 141 

travellers say, and what you may read in their accounts. 
On the ITth of March, in the year of my departure 
from Quebec, Mr. de la Croix de St. Yalier, Bishop of 
that city, conferred the priesthood on me, and soon 
after gave me a mission or parish called Sorel, south of 
the St. Lawrence, between Three Rivers and Montreal. 

I was taken from my parish, where I had spent two 
years, to become chaplain of a party of four hundred 
French, whom the Marquis de Beauharnois had united 
with eight or nine hundred Indians of every kind of 
nation. There were especially, Iroquois, Hurons, Nep- 
issings and Ottawas, to whom the Rev. Mr. Pellet, 
secular priest, and Father de la Bretonniere, Jesuit, 
acted as chaplains. These troops commanded by Mr. 
de Ligneries, were commissioned to go and destroy a 
nation called the Foxes, whose chief village lay about 
four hundred and fifty leagues from Montreal. 

We set out on the 5th of June, 1728, and for nearly 
one hundred and fifty leagues, ascended the great river 
which bears the name of the Ottawas, and which is full 
of rapids and portages. We left it at Matawan, to 
take another leading to Lake Nipissing, or Mipissing ; 
this river was thirty leagues long, and, like the Ottawa, 
it is interrupted by rapids and portages. From this 
river we entered the lake, which is about eight leagues 
wide, and from this lake, French River quickly bore 
us into Lake Huron, into which it empties, after a rapid 
course of over thirty leagues. 

As it is impossible for many to go together on these 
little rivers, it was agreed that those who went first 
should wait for the others at the entrance of Lake Hu- 
ron, at a place called Laprairie, and which is, in fact, a 



143 PERILS OF THE 

very beautiful prairie. Here, for the first time, I sa'vr 
tlie deadly rattle-snake ; when I have the pleasure of 
seeing you, I shall speak more particularly of these 
animals ; enough be it for the present, to say that none 
of our party were troubled by them. 

As we had all come up by the 26th of July, I cele- 
brated Mass, which I had deferred till then, and the 
next day we started for Michillima, or MissilHma Kinac, 
which is a post situated between Lakes Huron and 
Michigan. Although we had a hundred leagues to 
make, the wind was so favorable that we reached it in 
less than six days. Here we remained some time to 
repair what had been damaged on the rapids and por- 
tages. I here blessed the standards, and buried some 
soldiers whom sickness or fatigue had carried off. 

On the 10th of August, we set out from Michillimak- 
inac, and entered Lake Michigan. The wind which 
detained us there two days, enabled our Indians to go 
to hunt ; they brought back some moose and reindeer, 
and were polite enough to offer us some. We at first 
excused ourselves, but they forced us to accept their 
present, and told us, that, as we had shared with them 
the dangers of the route, it was fair that they should 
share with us the good things they had found ; and that 
they would not deem themselves men, if they acted 
otherwise towards other men. This speech, which one 
of our men translated for me, quite moved me. "What 
humanity in savages ! how many men in Europe would 
better deserve the name of barbarian than these 
Americans ! 

This generosity o? our Indians merited, on our part, 
indeed, a lively gratitude , for, as we had met no good 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 143 

hunting-ground for some time past, we had been com- 
pelled to eat only pork ; the moose and reindeer they 
gave us relieved us from the disgust we were beginning 
to feel for our ordinary food. 

On the 14th of the same month, we continued our 
route to the Chicago bend, and, while crossing thence 
to Deathcape, which is five leagues off, a squall sur- 
prised us, and drove on shore several of the canoes which 
failed to double a point and reach shelter. They were 
dashed to pieces, and we were obliged to distribute in 
the other canoes the men who, by the greatest happiness 
in the world, had all escaped the danger. 

The next day, we crossed to the Menomonees to 
invite the tribe to oppose our landing ; they fell into 
the trap, and were entirely defeated. 

We encamped, on the following day, at the mouth of 
a river called la Gasparde. Here our Indians entered 
the woods, and soon brought in several deer ; this game 
is very common at this place, and we accordingly laid 
in a stock for some days. 

On the 17th, at noon, we halted till evening, so as 
to reach the Post at Green Bay only at night. We 
wished to surprise the enemy, whom we knew to be 
among the Sacs, their allies, whose village is near Tort 
St. Francis. "We began our march in darkness, and at 
midnight reached the mouth of Fox river, where our 
fort is built. As soon as we got there, Mr. De Lignerie 
sent some Frenchmen to the Commandant to know 
whether there were really any of the enemy in the Sac 
village, and, learning that there must be, he sent all his 
Indians, and a detachment of the French, over the river 
to surround the village, and ordered the rest of the 



144 PERILS OF THE 

troops to enter it. "With all our precautions to conceal 
our approach, the enemy were aware of it, and all 
escaped but four. These were made a present to our 
Indians, who, after amusing themselves with them, 
shot them to death with arrows. 

I witnessed with pain this horrible sight, and could 
not reconcile with the sentiments of the Indians as ex- 
pressed a few days before the pleasure they took in tor- 
menting these wretches by making them undergo a hun- 
dred deaths before depriving them of life. I would 
have liked to ask them whether they did not perceive 
as well as I this contrariety, and show them what I saw 
blamable in their course, but all who could act as inter- 
preters for me were on the other side of the river, and 
I was obliged to defer satisfying my curiosity to some 
other time. 

After this little coup de main, we ascended Fox 
River, which is full of rapids, and has a course of thirty- 
five or forty leagues. On the 24th of August, we 
reached the Winnebago village, well disposed to destroy 
all whom we should find there, but their flight had pre- 
ceded our arrival, and all we could do was to biu'n their 
cabins, and ravage their fields of Indian corn which 
affords them theu' principal nourishment. 

"We then crossed Little Fox Lake, at the end of 
which we encamped, and, the next day, the feast of St. 
Louis, we entered, after mass, into a little river which 
led us to a kind of marsh, on the bank of which lies 
the chief village of those whom we sought. Their 
allies, the Sacs, had doubtless warned them of our 
approach ; they did not think proper to await us, and 
we found in their village only some women, of whom 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 145 

ou.r Indians made slaves, and an old man whom they 
btirnt at the stake, without any apparent repugnance at 
the commission of such a barbarous action. 

This cruelty seemed more marked to me than that 
which they had exercised against the four Indians 
whom they had taken in the Sac town. I availed my- 
self of this occasion and circumstance to satisfy the curi- 
osity which I mentioned a moment ago. 

One of our Frenchmen understood the Iroquois 
language. I begged him to tell the Indians that I 
was surprised to see them take so much pleasure in 
tormenting a wretched old man, that the right of war 
did not extend so far, and that such barbarity seemed 
to me to belie the principles which they had seemed 
to entertain for all men. An Iroquois answered, 
and, to justify his comrades, said that, when they fell 
into the hands of the Sacs and Foxes, they received 
still more cruel treatment, and that it was their cus- 
tom to treat their enemies as they themselves would 
be treated if conquered. 

I would have wished to know this Indian's language 
to show him myself what was defective and blamable in 
his reasoning ; but I had to content myself with repre- 
senting to him that nature, and particularly religion, 
required us to be humane to each other ; that modera- 
tion should direct us in every thing ; that the pardon 
and oblivion of injuries done us is a virtue whose prac- 
tice is expressly enjoined by Heaven ; that I conceived 
that they ought not to spare the Sacs and Foxes, but 
that they should deprive them of life only as rebels and 
enemies of the State, and not as their private enemies ; 
that their vengeance was criminal ; that to descend to 

13 



146 PERILS OF THE 

such excesses as those into which they had fallen with 
regard to the five men whose lives they had inhumanly 
prolonged in order to put them to death in more cruel 
torments was, in some sort, to justify the barbarity with 
which they reproached their enemies ; that the right of 
war simply permitted us to take an enemy's life, and 
not, so to say, to become drunk in his blood, and to 
plunge him into despair, by putting him to death in 
any way but that of arms, or in any place but that of 
the combat ; lastly, that it was their duty to give the 
Sacs and Foxes an example of that moderation which is 
the part of a good heart, and which draws admiration 
and love on the Christian religion, and conseq^uently on 
those who profess it. 

I do not know whether my interpreter translated all 
that I have just said, but the Indian would never admit 
that he acted on a false principle ; I was going to give 
him some further reasons when the order was given to 
advance against the enemy's last fort. This post is sit- 
uated on the banks of a little river, which joins an- 
other called "Wisconsin, and falls into the Mississippi, 
thirty leagues off. 

"We found no one there, and, as we had no orders to 
go further, we spent some days in laying the country 
waste, so as to cut off from the enemy all means of sub- 
sistence. This country is fine enough : the soil is fer- 
tile, game common, and of good flavor ; the nights are 
very cold, and the day extremely hot. I will speak 
to you, in my second letter, of my return to Mont- 
real, and of what happened down to my departure for 
France. I wish first to hear from you, and learn 
whether you find this sufficiently detailed. The sequel 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 14T 

of my relation will depend on your answer^ and I shall 
omit nothing to prove the tender friendship with which 
I am, dear brother, your affectionate brother, 

Emmanuel Crespel, Recollect, 

Paderborn, Jajiuary 10th, 1742. 



LETTER 11. 

My dear Brother, — ^Nothing can be more flattering 
to my self-love than your answer. My first letter, you 
say, has satisfied many intelligent persons to whom you 
showed it, and excited their curiosity to such a degree 
that they are extremely impatient to see the rest of my 
travels. This desire, of which I feel all the advantage, 
might injure me if I delayed to gratify it. Things too 
long expected lose their value, and no one should fear 
this more than myself. 

After the expedition of which I have spoken, if, in- 
deed, we can give that name to an absolutely useless 
step, we resumed the route for Montreal, from which 
city we were about four hundred and fifty leagues dis- 
tant. On our way, we burnt the fort at the bay, because, 
being too near the enemy, it would not have been a 
safe retreat to the French left on guard there. The 
Foxes, roused by the ravage of their country, and con- 
vinced that we would not venture a second time into 
their territory in the uncertainty of finding them, would 
have obliged our troops to shut themselves up in the 
fort, would have attacked, and perhaps beaten them 
there. When we were at Micheillemakinak, the 



148 PEJEIILS OF THE 

commandant gave a carte-blanche to all. "We had still 
three hundred leagues to go, and we should undoubt- 
edly have run out of provisions^ if we had not used 
every effort to expedite our movements. The wind 
favored us in passing Lake Huron, but we had almost con- 
stant rain while ascending French river, traversing Lake 
Nipissing, and on the little river Matawan ; it stopped 
when we entered the Ottawa. I cannot express the 
rapidity with which we descended that great river; 
imagination alone can form a just idea. As I was with 
men whom experience had rendered skilful in shooting 
the rapids, I was not among the last at Montreal, 
which I reached on the 28th of September, and left 
only in the spring, in obedience to an order given me 
to descend to Quebec. 

I had no sooner arrived in that city than our commis- 
sary appointed me to the post of Niagara, a new estab- 
lishment, with a fortress situated at the entrance of a 
beautiful river that bears the same name, and which 
is formed by the famous falls of Niagara, south of 
Lake Ontario, and six leagues from our fort. I accord- 
ingly again bent my way to Montreal, and thence passed 
to Frontenac or Catarakouy, which is a fort built 
at the entrance of Lake Ontario. Although it is only 
eighty leagues from Montreal, we were fifteen days in 
reaching it on account of the rapids we had to pass. 
There we waited some time for favorable winds ; for, 
at this place, we leave the canoes to take a vessel which 
the king has had built expressly to run to Niagara. 
This vessel, which gauges about eighty tons, is very 
light, and sometimes makes her trip, which is seventy 
leagues, in less than thirty-six hours. The lake is very 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 149 

safe, free from shoals, and very deep ; about the middle 
I sounded with nearly a hundred fathoms of line, but 
could not touch bottom ; its width is about thirty 
leagues, and its length ninety. 

We set sail the S2d of July, and reached our post on 
the morning of the STth. I found the spot very agree- 
able, the chase and fishery are productive, the forest of 
extreme beauty and full, especially of walnut, chestnut, 
oak, elm and maple, such as we never see in France. 

The fever soon damped the pleasure we enjoyed at 
Niagara, and troubled us till fall set in, which dissipated 
the unhealthy air. We spent the winter calmly enough, 
I may say agreeably, had not the vessel, which should 
have brought us supplies, been compelled, after stand- 
ing a terrible tempest on the lake, to put back to Fron- 
tenac, and left us under the necessity of drinking 
nothing but water. 

As the season was far advanced, it did not venture 
to set sail again, and we got our supplies only on the 
first of May. 

From Martinmas the failure of wine prevented my 
saying Mass, but, as soon as the vessel got in, the garri- 
son went to their Easter duties, and I started for Detroit 
on the invitation of a religious of my order, who was 
missionary there. It is a hundred leagues from Niagara 
to this post, which is situated six leagues from the en- 
trance of a very beautiful river, about fifteen leagues 
from the extremity of Lake Erie. 

This lake, which may be a hundred leagues long, and 
some thirty wide, is very flat, and consequently bad 
when the wind is high ; towards the north, above the 
Great Point d' Ecorres, it is bounded by very high sand 

13* 



150 PERILS OF THE 

hills ; so that, if surprised by the winds in portions 
where there is no landing-place, and these are only 
every three leagues, experience has shown that the 
vessel must infallibly be lost. 

I arrived at Detroit on the 17th day after my depart- 
ure ; the religious whom I went to visit, (Father Bona- 
venture,) received me in a manner which wonderfully 
characterized the pleasure we usually feel on finding a 
countryman in a far country ; add to this, we were of 
the same order, and the same motive had led us from 
our native land. I was, therefore, dear to him, for 
more reasons than one, and he neglected nothing to 
show me how pleased he was with my visit. He was a 
man a little older than myself, and highly esteemed for 
the success of his apostolic labors. His house was 
agreeable and commodious ; it was, so to speak, his own 
work, and the abode of virtues. 

The time not employed in the duties of his office, he 
divided between study and the labors of the field ; he 
had some books and the selection he had made gave 
some idea of his purity of life and extensive knowledge. 
The language of the country was quite familiar to him, 
and the ease with which he spoke it, endeared him to 
many Indians who communicated to him their reflections 
on all sorts of matters, and especially on religion. 
Affability wins confidence, and no one deserved it more 
than this religious. 

He had carried his complaisance towards some of the 
people of Detroit, so far as to teach them French. 
Among these, I found several whose good sense, solid 
and profound judgment, would have made them admi- 
rable men, even in France, had their minds been culti- 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 151 

Tated by study. During tlie whole time I spent with 
this religious^ I found daily new reasons to envy him a 
lot like his. In one word, he was as happy as men 
should be not to blush at their happiness. 

After doing, at Detroit, what had led me thither, I 
returned to Niagara, and remained there two years more ; 
during this time I learned the Iroquois and Ottawa lan- 
guages, in order to converse with the people. This 
study at first ajflforded me the pleasure of conversing 
with the Indians, when I went to walk in the neighbor- 
hood of the post ; in the sequel you will see that it was 
of great use to me, and actually saved my life. 

When my three years' residence at Niagara had ex- 
pired, I was relieved according to custom, and went to 
spend the winter in our convent at Quebec. 

It was a great comfort for me to pass that rigorous 
season there ; if we had not what is superfluous, at 
least we never wanted what is necessary, and, what is 
not the least consolation, we receive news from home, 
and have persons to converse with. 

Early in the spring, the chaplain of Fort Frontenac 
fell sick, and our Commissary appointed me to go and 
take his place. I have already spoken of the situation 
of this post ; we live agreeably there, and game is found 
in abundance in the marshes, by which Fort Frontenac 
is surrounded. 

I remained here only two years, when I was recalled 
to Montreal, and soon after sent to Crown Point in Lake 
Champlain. It will not be amiss, I think, to tell you 
why this point bears the name of Crown or Scalp. 
When the Indians kill any one on their expeditions, it 
is their custom to take off his scalp, which they bring 



152 PERILS OF THE 

in on top of a pole, to prove that they have defeated 
the enemy. This ceremony, or, if you like, this custom, 
began on this point, after a kind of combat, in which 
many Indians lost their scalps, which gave name to the 
place where the battle was fought. 

Lake Champlain is some fifty -five leagues long ; it is 
studded with very beautiful islands, and its water, which 
is very pure, makes it abound in fish. The fort which 
we have in this place, bears the name of St. Frederic ; 
its situation is advantageous, for it is built on an elevated 
point about fifteen leagues distant, northerly from the 
extremity of the lake ; it is the key of the colony on 
that side, that is to say, on the side of the English, who 
are only twenty or thirty leagues ofi". 

I arrived there, on the 17th of November, 1735. 
The season, which began to be severe, multiplied the 
difficulties of our way ; it is one of the most painful I 
ever made in Canada, if I except my shipwreck, as you 
may judge. 

The day of my departure from Chambly, a post 
about forty leagues from St. Frederic, we were obliged 
to sleep out, and during the night about a foot of snow 
fell. The winter continued as it set in, and, although 
we were lodged, we did not suffer less than if we were 
in the open fields. The building where they put us 
was not yet finished ; we were only partially sheltered 
from the rain, and the walls, which were twelve feet 
thick, having been finished only a few days, added still 
more to our troiibles which the snow and rain gave us. 
Many of our soldiers were seized with scurvy, and 
our eyes became so sore, that we were afraid of losing 
our sight without resource. We were not better fed 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 153 

than lodged. Scarcely can you find a few patridges 
near the fort, and, to eat venison, you must go to Lake 
George to find it, and that is seven or eight leagues oiF. 

"We finished our buildings as soon as the season would 
permit, but we preferred to camp out in summer, rather 
than remain any longer. 

Yet we were not more at ease, for the fever surprised 
us all, and not one of us could enjoy the pleasures of 
the country. 

This state, I avow, began to be tedious, when, towards 
the month of August, I received from my provincial, 
an obedience to return to France. The religious whom 
our Commissary sent to relieve me, was of our province, 
and Peter Verquaille by name ; he arrived on the 21st 
of September, 1736, at St. Frederic, and I set out the 
same day at four or five o'clock in the afternoon. 

The next day, we had a favorable wind, which drove 
us on to La Pointe, about eight leagues from Chambly. 

On the 23d, we were well-nigh lost in shooting the 
St. Teresa rapids ; this was the last danger I ran before 
reaching Quebec, where I expected to embark at once 
for France. 

Such, my dear brother, is a brief account of my 
travels in a part of New France. Those who have 
travelled in that country can see that I know the 
ground, and, in this, I have endeavored to be accurate. 
The relations of many travellers tell us a thousand 
things which I could only repeat after them ; in writing 
my travels, my design was only to detail the shipwreck I 
suffered on my way back to France. The circumstances 
attending it are most interesting ; prepare your heart 
for emotion and sadness ; what remains for me to write 



154 PERILSOFTHE 

will excite your curiosity only by heightening your 
compassion ; do not blush, at indulging in it^ dear 
brother ; a noble heart is ever sensible to the misfortunes 
of others ; he who would be unmoved by the miseries 
of his brethren^ bears, so to speak, a stamp of reproba- 
tion which justly cuts him oif from human society. 

I shall write you some weeks hence ; do not answer 
this, as I must go some leagues from this town, your 
letter might not reach me, and I do not wish to risk its 
loss. 

Do not be impatient for my third, I shall write some 
pages every day ; rely on my word, and believe that I 
shall be, for life. 

My dear brother, your affectionate brother, 

Emmanuel Crespel, Recollect, 

Paderborn, January 30, 1742. 



LETTER III. 

My Dear Brother : — It is not a fortnight since I 
sent you my second letter ; you must see, by my dili- 
gence in writing the tliird, that I do not wish to keep 
you waiting for the sequel of my narrative. If I were 
master of all my time, my letters would be longer and 
more frequent ; but duty must be preferred to all else, 
and I can only afford you the hours not taken up by 
the indispensable duties of my state 

I remained some time at Quebec, awaiting an oppor- 
tunity to return to France ; two offered at once ; the 
first in the king's vessel, Le Heros, of which I did not 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 155 

avail myself; tlie other was offered me by the Sieur de 
Ereneuse, a Canadian sprung from the noble family of 
the d' Amours ; . the friendship that existed between us 
induced me to accept his oifer with pleasure, and I 
could not refuse his request that I should act as chap- 
lain. He was a very fine man, whom an experience of 
forty-six years had rendered most skilful in navigation ; 
and Messrs, Pacaud, Treasurers of France, and shippers 
at Eochelle, had thought it impossible to confide their 
ship La Eenommee, to better hands. It was a new ves- 
sel, a good sailer, convenient, with a cargo of three 
hundred tons, and armed with fourteen pieces of cannon. 

Several gentlemen, for security and pleasure, asked to 
go with us, so that we were fifty-four on the vessel. 

We weighed anchor and set sail -on the third of 
November, with several other vessels, and we all 
anchored together at Trou St. Patrice, three leagues 
from Quebec. 

The next day we made the traverse, that is to say, 
we crossed the St. Lawrence from south to north, and 
the same day we reached the end of Isle Orleans, nine 
miles from Quebec, and anchored off Cape Maillard. 

On the 5th, we hoisted sail to pass the Gouffre, but 
we were unable to do so on that day, and were com- 
pelled to put back to the spot from which we had started, 
to avoid being carried away by the current, which runs 
towards that point from a considerable distance. 

We were more fortunate next day, for we passed this 
Gouffre without accident, as did the Sieur Veillon, who 
commanded a brigantine for Martinique, and who, like 
ourselves, had been unable to pass the day before. 

The ships with which we had set sail, had passed at 



156 PERILS OF THE 

the first attempt, so that we were without company, and 
cast anchor at La Prairie, near Isle aux Coudres. 

On the 7th, we continued our route to Isle aux 
Lievres, and thence to Mathan, where a slight northerly 
wind arose, on which our captain, who knew its fury at 
that season, avowed that we had everything to fear. 
He, accordingly, deemed it best to find a roadstead, that 
is to say, a suitable place to shelter us against the com- 
ing storm. The winds, soon after, obliged us to tack, 
and the next day, the 11th of the month, towards eight in 
the evening, they veered to N. N. E., N. E., E. N. E., E., 
and at last, to S. S. E., and then continued in that quarter 
for two days. During all this time we tacked about along 
Isle Anticosti, with reefed topsails ; but as soon as the 
winds veered to S; S. W., we steered S. E. by E. and S. E., 
till the morning of the 14th. On that day, we endeav- 
ored to make the shore, but went aground a quarter of 
a league from land, on the point of a shoal of flat rocks, 
about eight leagues from the southern point of Isle 
Anticosti. 

Our ship now struck so frequently, that we expected 
every moment to see it open under us. The time must 
have been bad, and the sailors in despair of our safety, 
since all refused to give a hand in reefing the sails 
and fi'eeing the masts, although the strain they gave the 
ship was evidently hurrying on our ruin. The water 
rushed in in torrents ; fear had deprived half of all 
presence of mind, and the general disorder seemed to 
announce our death. 

But for our cannoneer, our situation would have 
been much more frightful ; he ran to the bread chest, 
and, though the water had already reached it, he threw 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 157 

out a part between decks ; lie thought, too, that some 
guns, a barrel of powder, and a case of cartridges, 
would become necessary, in case we escaped the danger 
we were actually in ; all this he had carried up. His 
precaution was not useless, and, but for it, I would not 
have the consolation of writing to you, my dear broth- 
ers. The sea was as violent as the wind, neither dimin- 
ishing in the least ; the waves had carried away our 
rudder, and we were obliged to cut away our mizen-mast 
to throw it overboard. We then let down our boat, 
taking every precaution to keep it ahead, so as to pre- 
vent its being driven against the ship and dashed to 
pieces; the sight of death, and hope of deferring it, 
gave courage to all; and, although we were sure of 
being miserable in that desert island for some months at 
least, each thought he would gain much by exposing 
himself to everything to save his life. 

After getting our boat afloat, we suspended it on the 
davits, in order to embark all we had more easily, and 
get a wide berth as soon a possible to save ourselves from 
the heavy sea, which would, perhaps, have driven us on 
the vessel, if we had not got off with speed. But it is 
in vain for men to rely on their prudence ; when God 
lays his heavy hand upon them, all their precautions are 
useless. 

We entered the long boat to the number of twenty, 
and, at that instant, the pulley of the fore davit gave 
way ; judge of our situation ! the boat remained hang- 
ing by the stern, and, of those in it, several fell into the 
sea ; others clung to the sides, and some, by means of 
ropes, hanging over the ship's sides, got on board again. 

The captain, seeing the disaster, cut or slipped the 



158 PERILS OF THE 

stern pulley, and tlie long boat righting, I jumped in to 
save Mr. Leveque and Dufresnois, who were almost 
drowned. Meanwhile, the sea used our long boat so 
roughly, that it was leaking at every seam. "Without 
rudder, without strength, a frightful wind, rain in tor- 
rents, a sea in fury, and an ebb tide, what could we 
expect but a speedy end ? Yet we made every effort 
to get off; some bailed, one steered with an oar, — every- 
thing was wanting, or against us, and, to fill up our 
miseries, we shipped two seas that left us knee-deep in 
water; a third would have surely swamped us; our 
strength began to give out as it became more necessary; 
we made little headway, and, with good reason, began 
to fear our longboat would fill before we could reach 
land. The rain prevented our making out a proper 
place to run in ; all before us seemed very rocky, or 
rather we saw nothing but death. 

I believed that it was time to exhort all to prepare, 
by an act of contrition, to appear before God. This I 
had deferred till now, so as not to augment the panic 
or nnman their courage ; but there was no recoiling, 
and 1 did not msh to have my conscience reproach me 
with a neglect of duty. Every one prayed, and after 
the Conjiteor, I gave a general absolution. It was a 
touching sight! All those men bailing and rowing, 
while they implored our Lord to have mercy on them, 
and forgive them the sins which made them unworthy 
of partaking of his glory ; at last they were prepared 
for death, and awaited it without repining. As for my- 
self, I commended my soul to God. I recited the 
Miserere aloud, all repeating it after me. I saw no 
hope left. The longboat was going down, and I had 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 159 

already muffled my head in my cloak, so as not to see 
the moment of our going down, when a gust of wind 
suddenly drove us ashore. 

You may imagine, how eagerly we sprang from the 
longboat ; but we were not yet out of danger ; several 
waves broke over us, some of which knocked us down, 
and very nearly carried us out of our depth ; yet we 
made head against them, and got off with no harm, but 
swallowing an abundance of sand and water. 

In this confusion, some one had presence .of mind 
enough, to keep hold of the line or chain attached to 
the longboat, and hold it fast ; but for this precaution, 
it was all over, as you will see by my next letter, or 
perhaps by the close of this. 

Our first care was to thank God for delivering us 
from so great a danger, and, in fact, without a special 
aid of Providence, it would have been impossible to 
escape death. "We were on a little sand-bank, separated 
from the island by a small creek, running from a bay a 
little above the place where we were. It was with 
great difficulty that we crossed this creek, for it was so 
deep, that for the third time we were on the point of 
perishing. The sea, which began to fall at last, enabled 
us to go and get what we had in the longboat, and 
bring it to the island. This was a new fatigue, but it 
could not be put off. We were wet to our very bones, 
and so was everything we had. How could we make a 
fire in this state ? Yet after some time we succeeded. 
It was more necessary than anything else, and although 
it was long since we had tasted food, and hunger was 
pressing on us^ we thought of satisfying it only after 
getting a little warm. 



160 PERILS OF THE « 

About three o'clock in tlie afternoon, our small boat 
came to land with only six men ; the sea was so violent 
that it had been impossible for more to expose them- 
selves in it. We went to meet them, and took all 
necessary precautions to bring it in without injuring it. 
Without this boat we could never have got to the ship to 
bring off the provisions which the cannoneer had saved, 
nor the seventeen men still on board. 

However, none durst undertake to go there that day. 
"We passed the night sadly enough. The fire we had 
made had not yet dried us, and we had nothing to shel- 
ter us in that rigorous season. The wind seemed to us 
to be rising, and although the vessel was strong, new 
and well knit, there was every ground for fearing that 
it could not hold together till next morning, and that 
all on board would perish miserably. About midnight 
the wind fell, the sea subsided, and, at day-break, seeing 
the ship in the same state that we left it, several sailors 
went out in the boat. They found all on board well, 
having passed the night more at ease than we did, since 
they were sheltered and had something to eat and drink. 
They put some provisions in the boat, and brought all 
off; they came seasonably for us, as we were now suffer- 
ing cruelly from hunger. 

We took what was necessary for a meal, that is to 
say, about three ounces of meat a piece, a little soup, 
and some vegetables^ that we put in. We had to econ- 
omize, and not expose ourselves to run out of provisions 
so soon. We sent to the ship a second time to save 
the carpenter's tools, tar, which we needed to repair 
our longboat, an axe to cut wood, and some sails to 
make a cabin. All this was a great help, especially 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 161 

the sails, for two feet of snow fell that night. On 
the next day, November 16th, while some went on 
board for stores, the others laid hold of the long- 
boat, and at last got it high and dry by means of a 
double pulley. The state we found it in, showed us 
how near death we had been, and we could not conceive 
how it had ever brought us ashore ; we now did all we 
could to repair it. The mizen yard, which was thrown 
up on the shore, enabled us to make a keel ; we made 
the bottom of a piece of wood cut in the forest; we 
made two linings for the bottom, with boards which we 
got on board, and at last it was refitted as well as our 
position enabled us. 

I defer to my next the sequel of my shipwreck ; 
before continuing it, I should be glad to hear of you ; 
such tidings interest no one more than myself, who am, 
with the warmest friendship, my dear brother, your 
very afiectionate brother, 

Emmanuel Crespel, Recollect, 

Paderborn, February 13, 1742. 



LETTER IV, 



My Dear Brother: — I have just received your 
answer, which gives me infinite pleasure. I was espec- 
ially touched by what happened to you, in your ItaHan 
and Hungarian campaigns. Why did you not send 
me the details sooner ? Here I must reproach you ; 
but this cannot displease you, as it serves to show how 
sensible I am to all concerning you. 



u* 



16^ PERIL SOFTHE 

I am glad that the beginning of my shipwreck excites 
in your soul, the sentiments which I said it should ; it 
is a proof that I haye not exaggerated the evils which 
I suffered, and saw others suffer. Yet, after all, my 
dear brother, that is only a slight sketch, and what I 
have yet to tell far surpasses all I have hitherto said, 
and deserves all your attention. 

"While we were refitting the longboat, we ate only 
once in twenty-four hours, and then our allowance was 
smaller then that I have already mentioned. It was 
prudent to act so ; we had only two months' stores in 
the ship, this being the usual provision made on sailing 
fi:om Quebec to France ; all our biscuit was lost, and 
more than half our meat had been'consumed or spoilt, 
during the eleven days we had been at sea ; so that, 
with all possible economy, we had only five weeks' food. 
This calculation, or, if you like, this reflection, an- 
nounced death at the end of forty days ! for, after all, 
there was no prospect of finding, before then, any means 
of leaving the desert-island. 

The ships which pass by it, sail altogether too far 
off, to perceive any signal we could make, and then how 
could we rely on them ? Our provisions could last no 
more than six weeks, at most, and no ship could pass 
for six or seven months. 

I saw despair coming on, courage began to sink, and 
cold, snow, ice, and sickness, seemed banded to increase 
our sufferings. We sank beneath the weight of so 
much misery. The ship became inaccessible from the 
ice, which gathered around it ; the cold caused an intol- 
erable sleeplessness ; our sails were far from shielding 
us from the heavy snows that fell, that year, six feet 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 16S 

deep, and fever had already surprised several of our 
comrades. 

Such circumstances were too trying for us, not to 
seek to dispose otherwise. We accordingly resolved on 
a decisive step. 

We knew that some of our countrymen were winter- 
ing at Mingan, on the main land to the north, in order 
to hunt seals for oil ; there we were almost sure to get 
relief, but the difficulty was to reach it at that season ; 
the rivers were all frozen, the snow was three feet deep, 
and increased day by day, and the distance was great, 
considering the season, and our condition, for we were 
forty leagues from the highest or northwest part of the 
island, which we had to make, turn, and descend some- 
what, then cross twelve leagues of open sea. 

We were resolved to surmount all those obstacles ; 
our actual state gave us no fears of a more frightful 
one, but one reflection stopped us for some time. We 
could not all start for Mingan, and half of us would 
have to stay at this place which we were so eager to 
leave, even to expose ourselves to more real dangers. 

Yet there was no other way — ^we must all resolve to 
die on that place at the end of six weeks, or part for a 
time. I showed them that the least delay would defeat 
our plan, as, during our irresolution, the bad weather 
increased, and our scanty stores were failing. I added, 
that I could well conceive the repugnance each one 
should have to remain where we were, but, at the same 
time, I showed them the absolute necessity of parting 
company, and I hoped our Lord would dispose the 
hearts of some, to let the others go in search of aid ; I 
wound up, that we must dry the chapel furniture — ^that 



164 PERILS OF THE 

to draw down on us the light of the Holy Ghost, I 
would celebrate his Mass on the 26th, and that I was 
sure our prayers would have the desired effect. All 
applauded my proposition ; I said the Mass of the Holy 
Ghost, and the same day twenty-four men offered to 
remain, provided provisions were left them, and a prom- 
ise made, on the gospel, that relief would be sent as 
soon as the party got to Mingan. 

I told my comrades, that I had made up my mind to 
stay with the twenty -four men who had offered to re- 
main at the place of our shipwreck, and that I would 
endeavor to help them to await patiently the promised 
relief. All, however, opposed my design, and to dis- 
suade me, said, that, as I knew the language of the 
country, I must go with the party, so that if Mr. de 
Freneuse and de Senneville should die, I might act as 
interpreter, in case we met any Indians on the island. 
Those who remained especially desired I should go ; 
they knew me incapable of breaking my word, and did 
not doubt, but that, on my arrival at Mingan, my first 
care would be to relieve them ; not but that those who 
were going were fully disposed to send a boat to their 
relief as soon as possible, yet they relied apparently 
more on the word of a priest, than that of one of them- 
selves. When all was arranged, I exhorted those who 
remained to patience. I told them that the means of 
drawing upon them the blessings of Heaven, was not 
to give away to despair, and to abandon themselves 
entirely to the care of Providence — that they should 
keep themselves in continual exercise to keep off sick- 
ness, and not fall into discouragement, — that prudence 
required an economical use of the food we had left. 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 165 

although. I hoped to send them relief before it was spent ; 
but that it was better to have some over, than to run the 
risk of falling short. After giving this advice, those 
who were to go, began to make their preparations, and, 
on the 27th, we prepared to go ; we embraced our com- 
rades, who wished us a successful voyage, and, on our 
side, we showed how anxiously we desired to relieve 
their distress ; we were far from thinking that it was 
our last embrace. Our farewell was most aifecting, and 
the tears which attended it were a kind of presentiment 
of what was to befall us. 

Thirteen got in the small boat, and seventeen in the 
longboat ; we set out in the afternoon, and rowed that 
day about three leagues, but could not make land, and 
were obliged to pass the night on the water, where we 
endured inexpressible cold. 

The next day we did not make as much progress, 
but we slept ashore, and during the night a prodigious 
quantity of snow fell over us. 

On the 29th, the wind was against us, and we were 
compelled by the snow, which still continued to fall in 
abundance, to go ashore very early. 

On the 30th, the weather forced us to lie to ; at nine 
o'clock in the morning, we landed and made a good 
fire to cook some peas, which disagreed with several of 
our party. 

On the first of December, the winds prevented our 
re-embarking, and, as our sailors complained of weak- 
ness, and said that they could not row, we cooked a 
little meat, which we ate after drinking the broth ; it 
was the first time after our departure, that we had feasted 
ourselves so well ; the other days we ate only a little 



166 PERILS OF THE 

dried codfish raw, or a paste made of flour and water. 
On tlie morning of the second, the wind having changed 
to S. E., we set sail and made considerable progress ; 
about noon we joined the small boat to eat together ; 
our joy was extreme to see the fair weather continue, 
and the winds become more and more favorable to our 
route ; but this joy scarce lasted at all, and gave place 
to the most frightful consternation. After our meal, 
we continued on our way ; the small boat went faster 
by oars, but by sail we had the advantage ; we thought 
better to keep ofl^" shore, so as to double a point which 
we perceived, and made signal to the boat to follow us, 
but they let themselves be driven in towards the land, 
and we lost sight of it. 

At this point we found a frightful sea, and, although 
the wind was not very violent, we doubled it only by 
great effort, and taking in a great deal of water. This 
made us tremble for the small boat which was in shore, 
where the sea always breaks more violently than off. 
It was handled so roughly that it went down, and we 
heard no more of it till spring, as you will see by the 
sequel of my narrative. When we had passed the 
point, we endeavored to land, but the night was too far 
advanced, and we could not succeed ; the sea was bor- 
dered by very high and rugged rocks for nearly two 
leagues, and, seeing at the end a sandy bay, we made 
for it at full sail, and landed there without getting much 
wet. "We at once lighted a fire to show the small boat 
where we were, but this precaution was useless, because 
it had been dashed to pieces. 

After eating a little paste, each one wrapped himself 
up in his blanket, and spent the night by the fire. At 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 167 

ten o'clock, the sky clouded over, and snow fell abun- 
dantly till next day. As the fire melted it, the snow 
gave us much trouble, so that we preferred standing the 
cold to sleeping in water. 

Towards midnight^ the winds became so violent that 
our longboat, which was only a short distance off shore, 
having dragged its anchor, was driven ashore and almost 
dashed to pieces. The two men who were on board 
waking up, began to call out as loud as they could ; we 
ran up at once. The captain and myself threw ashore 
what we could save of the little cargo ; the others packed 
up what we threw out ; and carried it as they supposed 
out of reach of the tide, but the sea became so furious 
that, as it rose, it would have carried off all we had just 
saved, had not our comrades taken the precaution to 
transport three different times what they thought secure 
at first. This was not enough ; we had to get our boat 
ashore to prevent its being carried out to sea. The dif- 
ficulty we had in getting it high and dry is inconceivable, 
and we did not accomplish it until ten o'clock in the 
morning ; we then found it much strained and in need 
of considerable repairs. We deferred repairing it until 
the next day, and made a fire to dry ourselves ; after 
which we ate a little to restore us after our night's toil. 
In the morning, the carpenter and all who were able to 
help him labored to put matters in shape, and a part of 
us went in search of the other boat, but in vain ; and it 
was to no purpose that we reiiiained there several days 
to get tidings of it. On the eve of our departure we 
killed two foxes, which enabled us to spare our provis- 
ions ; in a situation like ours all must be turned to 
account, and the fear of starving to death prevented our 



168 PERILS OF THE 

neglecting any opportunity of prolonging life. On 
the seventh of the month, we started at daybreak, 
with a slight favorable wind, by which we made consid- 
erable headway; about ten o'clock, we ate our two 
foxes ; five hours after, the sky clouded over and the 
wind rising with the sea, we had to seek a hai*bor, but 
there was none. We were therefore obliged to stand 
off and sail before the wind to save ourselves. The 
night approached ; rain, mixed with hail, soon closed the 
day; the wind drove us on with so much vehemence 
that we could scarcely govern it, and our boat had 
undergone too much rough usage to be able to stand 
such a storm. Yet we had to yield to the circum- 
stances. 

At the height of the danger we were driven into a 
bay, where the wind still vexed us, and where it was 
impossible to find a landing ; our anchor could not hold 
anywhere ; the storm increased every moment, and our 
boat being driven on some shoals, we thought that we 
had not an hour to live. 

"We nevertheless endeavored, by throwing overboard 
part of our boat's load, to put off the fatal moment. 
Scarcely had we done this when we were surrounded 
by ice ; this more than redoubled our fear, as the cakes 
of ice were furiously tossed about and broke against us ; 
1 cannot tell you where they drove us, but I shall not 
exaggerate by telling you that the various tossings we 
met with that night are beyond all expression. The 
darkness increased the horror of our condition ; every 
blast seemed to announce our death. I exhorted all 
not to distrust Providence, and, at the same time, to put 
themselves in a state to go and render God an account 



OCEAN AND WILDEUNESS. 169 

of a life which, he had granted us only to serve him, 
and I reminded them that he was the Master to take it 
from us when he pleased. 

Day came at last, and we endeavored amid the rocks 
to make the bottom of the bay, where we were a little 
more tranquil; every one regarded himself as having 
escaped the gates of the grave, and rendered thanks to 
the almighty hand which had preserved us amid such 
imminent danger. 

"With all our efforts we could not make land, the 
water being too shallow. We had to cast anchor, and, 
to get ashore, we had to go waist-deep in some parts, 
knee-deep in all. We had with us the kettle and flour 
to make paste. After taking some nourishment, our 
next thought was to dry our clothes, so as to start next 
day. In a few days I will give you the sequel of our 
disaster, and shall not await your answer. 

I am, with all possible friendship, dear Brother, your 
very affectionate brother. 

Emmanuel Crespel, Recollect. 

Paderborn, February 28, 1742. 



LETTER V. 

My Dear Brother : — ^It is not a week since I wrote 
you my fourth letter, and I do not forget that at the 
close I promised to send you the fifth without delay. 
I now keep my word, and continue my narrative. 

The cold increased so much during the night that 
the whole bay was frozen over, and our boat hemmed 

15 



170 PERILS OF THE 

in on all sides. In vain did we hope that the wind 
would detach it; day by day the cold became more 
intense ; the ice got stronger^ and we had no alternative 
but to land what little had not been thrown overboard, 
and to bring in all our provisions. We made cabins 
which we covered with fir branches ; the captain and 
myself were versed in the way of building them, so that 
ours was one of the most comfortable. The sailors 
raised theirs along-side of ours, and, to hold the provis- 
ions, we erected a little place which no one could enter 
without being seen by all. This was a necessary pre- 
caution, and to prevent suspicion which might arise 
against those who had the charge of it, and to prevent 
any one from consuming in a few days what was to sup- 
port us for many long days. 

The following was the furniture of the apartments we 
had made for ourselves ; the ii'on pot in which we had 
heated the tar, served us as a kettle ; we had only one 
axe, but no stone to sharpen it, and our only preserva- 
tive against the cold, was our cloth'es and some half- 
burned blankets. Had any of these failed us, we should 
undoubtedly have perished. "Without the pot, it would 
be impossible to cook anything to sustain life ; without 
the axe, we could get no wood to keep up our fire, and 
without our blankets, bad as they were, there was no 
means of resisting the excessive cold which almost 
annihilated us at night. 

This state, you will tell me, was frightful, and noth- 
ing could add to it ; pardon me, dear brother, ere long 
it will be incredible. Its horror augments at every 
Ihie, and I have much to write you before I come to 
the extremity of misery to which I was reduced. 



OCEAN AND WILDEHNESS, ITl 

Our sole resource was to be able to prolong our 
existence till the close of April, and to wait for the ice 
to melt, in order to continue our yo} age in the boat ; 
chance alone could bring us relief in that spot ; it was 
mere delusion to hope for any. In this crisis, it was 
necessary to examine soberly what provisions we had, 
and to regulate the distribution in such a way that they 
should last till that time. We accordingly regulated 
our food in the following manner : in the morning, we 
boiled in snow-water two pounds of flour, to have paste 
or gruel ; in the evening, we cooked in the same way, 
about the same weight of meat ; we were seventeen in 
number, and consequently each had about four ounces 
of food a day. There was no talk of bread or anything 
else. Once a week only we ate peas instead of meat, 
and although we had only a spoonful apiece, it was, in 
reality, our best meal. It was not enough to fix the 
quantity of food which we were to take ; we had also to 
settle on our occupations. Leger, Basile and myself, 
undertook to cut the necessary wood, be the weather 
what it might ; some others agreed to carry it in ; 
others, to clear the snow, or rather to diminish its depth, 
on the road we had to take to the woods. 

You will perhaps be surprised at my undertaking to 
cut wood, an exercise for which I was not apparently 
adapted, and even you may think, beyond my strength ; 
in one sense, you are right ; but when you reflect, that 
violent exercise opens the pores, and gives vent to many 
humors, that it would be dangerous to leave festering 
in the blood, you will easily understand that I owe my 
preservation to this exercise. I always had foresight 
to tire myself extremely whenever I felt heavy or 



17^ PERILS OF THE 

feverish, and especially when I thought myself affected 
by the bad air. I accordingly went every day into the 
woods, and there in spite of all the efforts to clear away 
the snow, we often went waist-deep. This was not our 
only trouble in this employment; the trees in our 
neighborhood were full of branches, all so loaded with 
snow, that, at the first stroke of the axe, it knocked 
down the one that struck ; we were all three in succes- 
sion thrown down, and we often fell each two or three 
times, then we continued the work ; and when, by 
repeated shaking, the tree was disencumbered of the 
snow, we felled it, cut it in pieces, and returned to the 
cabin, each with his load ; then our comrades went for 
the rest, or rather for what was needed for that day. 
"We found this hard work, but we had to do it ; and 
although the fatigue was extreme, everything was to be 
feared if we neglected to keep it up manfully ; the 
difficulty increased day by day, for, as we cut down the 
wood, we had to go further, and so lengthen our jour- 
ney. Our weakness increased, as our toil became greater. 
Fir branches thrown down without order, were our bed ; 
we were devoured by vermin, for we had no change of 
clothing ; the smoke and snow gave us terrible soreness 
in the eyes, and, to complete our miseries, we became 
at once extremely costive, and afflicted by an inconti- 
nence of urine, which gave us not a moment's rest. I 
leave it to physicians to settle whence this arose ; had 
we known the cause, it would not have availed us ; it is 
useless to learn the source of an evil which we cannot 
remedy. 

On the 24th of December, we dried our chapel fur- 
niture ; we had a httle wine left ; I thawed it, and on 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS, 173 

Christmas day, said Mass ; when it was over, I made a 
short discourse to exhort our folks to patience. It was 
a kind of parallel between what the Savior of the world 
had suffered, and what we endured, and I closed by 
exhorting them to offer their pains to our Lord, and by 
assuring them that this offering was a title to obtain the 
end and recompense. We can express much better the 
evils we feel, than those we see others experience. My 
words had the effect I expected ; each one resumed 
courage, and resigned himself to suffer, till it should 
please God to call him to himself, or to rescue us from 
danger. 

On the first of January, considerable rain fell all day, 
and, as we could not shelter ourselves from it, we had 
to go to sleep all wet, and during the night, a violent 
norther, so to speak, froze us in our cabin, broke up all 
the ice in the bay, and carried the fragments off with 
our longboat ; a man named Foucault informed us of 
this by a loud cry; we sought, in vain, the spot to 
which it had been carried. Judge of our consternation ; 
this accident crowned our misfortunes, and took away 
all hopes of seeing them end; I felt all the conse- 
quences of it ; I saw despair seize on all ; some wished 
to eat at once what food we had, and go die at the foot 
of some tree ; others no longer wished to work, and, to 
justify their refusal, said, that it was useless to prolong 
their pain, as there was no apparent hope of escaping 
starvation. What a situation, my dear brother ! It would 
touch the hardest heart. I shed tears as I write it, and 
I know you are too sensitive to the miseries of others, 
to think that you can read my letter unmoved. 

I had need to recall all my strength to oppose my 

15* 



174 PERILS OF THE 

companions ; the best reasons wHch I alleged, seemed 
to excite impatience, and make them feel more poignantly 
their wretched state. As the mildness by which I had 
hoped to dissuade them from their course had failed, I 
assumed a tone which my character authorized ; I told 
them, with a boldness at which they were surprised, 
that ^' God was doubtless irritated against us ; that he 
measured the evils which he sent us, by the crimes we had 
previously committed ; that these crimes were doubtless 
enormous, as the punishment had been so rigorous, and 
that the greatest of all W£BS our despair, which, unless 
speedily followed by repentance, would become irremis- 
sible. How do you know, my brethren, but that you 
are at the close of your penance ? The time of the 
greatest sufferings, is that of the greatest mercy ; do 
not become unworthy of it by your murmurs ; the first 
duty of a Christian is to submit blindly to the orders of 
his Creator ; and you, rebel hearts, would you resist 
him ? Would you lose in an instant, the fruit of the 
evils which God sends you, only to render you worthy 
of the good things which he reserves for his children ? 
Would you become homicides, and, to escape transient 
pain, not fear to rush into torments which have no 
bounds, but eternity ? Follow your guilty resolve, 
accomplish your horrible design, I have done my duty ; 
it is your business to think that you are then lost for- 
ever. Yet I hope, I added, that among you, there will 
be some at least so attached to the law of their God, as 
to regard my remonstrance, and that they will -join me 
in offering him their pains, and asking strength to 
bear them." 

When I had finished, I wished to retire, but all 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 175 

stopped me, and begged me to pardon the excess of 
despair into which they had fallen ; they promised me 
with tears, that they would no longer provoke Heaven 
by their murmurs and impatience, and that they would 
redouble their efforts, to preserve a life of which God, 
alone, and not they, was Master to dispose of it. Each 
one immediately resumed his ordinary occupation ; I 
went to the woods with my two comrades, and, when 
we got back, the other two went for the wood we had 
cut. When all were again together, I told them that, 
having still wine enough for two or three Masses, it 
would be well for me to celebrate one, to ask, of the 
Holy Ghost, the strength and light which we needed. 
The weather cleared on the 5th of January; I chose 
that day to say the Mass ; scarcely had I finished it, 
when Mr. Yaillant and Foucault, the chief steward, a 
strong and vigorous man, informed us of their resolu- 
tion to go and look for the longboat. I greatly praised 
their zeal in exposing themselves thus for their com- 
panions. However we may be situated, we like praise ; 
self-love never leaves us but with life. They had not 
been gone two hours, when we saw them coming back 
with a contented air, which made us believe that they 
had some good news to tell us ; this conjecture was not 
false, for Mr. Vaillant said, that, after walking an hour 
with Foucault, they had perceived a little cabin and 
two bark canoes ; that, on entering, they had found 
seals, fat, and an axe, which they brought off, and that 
impatience to announce this to their companions, had 
prevented their going further. I was in the wood 
when they came back ; the Sieur de Senneville ran to 
tell me of the discovery which Mr. Vaillant and Fou- 



176 PERILS OF THE 

cault had just made ; I hurried back to the cabin, and I 
begged our two men to detail all that they had seen ; 
they repeated what they had told the others. Every 
■word spread hope and joy over my heart ; I seized that 
occasion to extol the care of Providence over those who 
resign themselves entirely to it, and exhorted all to re- 
turn thanks to God for the favor which he had just 
done us. The nearer a man is to the brink of the 
precipice, the more grateful he is to his deliverer. You 
may judge whether our gratitude was lively. A few 
days before, we believed ourselves hopelessly lost, and, 
when we despaired of receiving any assistance, we 
learned that there were Indians on the island, and that, 
towards the end of March, they could aid us, when they 
would return to the cabin to raise their canoes. 

This discovery renewed the courage of those who had 
made it. They started next day full of the confidence 
which the first success gave ; they hoped to find our 
longboat ; their hope was not deceived, for, after going 
a little further than before, they perceived it ofi" shore, 
and on returning found and brought with them a trunk 
full of clothes which we had thrown overboard, during 
that night of which I have spoken. 

On the tenth, although the weather was very cold, 
we all went to try and put our boat in a place of safety ; 
but being full of ice, and that which lay around making 
it like a little mountain, it was impossible for us to draw 
it ashore ; a hundred men would not have succeeded 
without great difficulty ; and even then many would 
run the risk of perishing in the attempt. This obstacle 
did not cause us much grief; to all appearance the own- 
ers of the two canoes had a larger craft with which they 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 177 

had crossed, and we hoped to profit by it. "We accor- 
dingly returned to our cabin ; scarcely had we taken 
fifty steps when the cold seized Foucault so as to prevent 
him from walking ; we were obliged to carry him, and 
when we got him to the cabin, he gave up his soul to 
God. 

On the twenty -third, our master carpenter sank under 
the hardships ; he had time to confess and died a sin- 
cere Christian. Although many of us had our legs 
swollen, we lost no one from the twenty-third of Janu- 
ary, till the sixteenth of February ; the expectation of 
the close of March supported us, and we already thought 
we saw those from whom we hoped for rescue, arriving ; 
but God did ordain that all should profit by the relief 
which he sent us, the designs of his Providence are 
inscrutable, and, contrary as their effects may be to us, 
we cannot without blasphemy, accuse them of injustice ; 
what we call evil is often, in the designs of our Creator, 
a benefit ; and, whether he rewards or punishes us^ 
whether he tries us by misfortune or prosperity, we 
always owe him thanksgiving. 

Farewell, my dear brother, I expect to hear from you ; 
my letter is long enough ; I wish to let you sympathize 
with me for a time ; this is a right which I believe I 
may require from your affection. 

I am, and ever shall be, my dear brother, your afifec- 
tionate brother, 

Emmanuel Ceespel, Recollect, 

Paderborn, February 28, 1742. 



178 PERILS OF THE 



LETTER VI. 



My Dear Brother : — I expected to liear from you 
on the fifteenth., or, at latest, the eighteenth of this 
month. It is now the twenty-fifth, and I hear nothing 
of you. Your sentiments in my regard do not allow me 
to suppose that this delay is caused by any coolness or 
indifference; I prefer to think that business beyond 
your control has prevented you, and to show you that 
I do not make your silence a crime, I for the third time 
take the advance of you. 

I closed my last letter by saying that we ha,d reached 
the beginning of February, sustained by the hope of 
soon seeing the term of our misery, but that God had 
otherwise disposed, and, my dear brother, this I wish to 
explain to you to-day. 

On the sixteenth, the Sieur de Freneuse, our captain, 
died after receiving Extreme Unction ; some hours after, 
Jerome, the boatswain, confessed and departed this life 
with admirable resignation. Towards evening, a young 
man named Girard paid the same tribute to nature ; he 
had for some days prepared to appear before God. A 
disease of the legs which had come on from warming 
himself too near, had induced him to put his conscience 
in order ; in this I aided him. He made a general 
confession, and the contrition which he seemed to 
have for his sins, make me think he deserved pardon. 
Our master gunner fell the next night into a debility 
from which he never recovered; and finally Robert, 
another boatswain, was attacked by the sickness which 
had carried off the others ; I prepared him to make an 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 179 

abjuration ; lie was a Calvinist ; and I avow that it was 
not easy to make him a Catholic ; fortunately, the good- 
ness of the cause which I maintained supplied the stead 
of the necessary talents ; the Protestants are well 
instructed, we must admit ; I was twenty times amazed 
at Robert's arguments. What a pity, then, the basis of 
Calvinism rests on a false principle ! 1 exclaim — What 
a pity the Calvinists are not of our communion ! With 
what success would they not defend the right cause, 
when they so vigorously sustain a bad one ! 

At last this, Robert understood^ and chose to avoid 
the danger of dying in any other creed than ours. On 
the twenty-fourth of February, he made an abjuration, 
repeated his profession of faith, and went to receive in a 
better life the reward of the evils he had suffered in 
this. As these died, we put their bodies in the snow 
beside the cabin. There was doubtless a want of pru- 
dence in putting our dead so near us, but we had not 
courage and strength to carry them further; besides, 
our situation did not permit us to think of every thing, 
and we did not see any ground to fear the neighborhood 
of what might so corrupt the air as to hasten our end, 
or rather we thought that the excessive cold, which 
prevailed, would prevent the corruption from producing 
on us any of the effects which it would have been 
rational to dread in other circumstances. 

So many deaths in so short a time, spread terror 
among all. Wretched as man may be, he never looks 
without horror on the moment which is to end his mis- 
eries, by depriving him of life. Some bewailed their 
wives and children, and bemoaned the state of misery 
into which their death would plunge their families; 



180 PERILS OF THE 

others kept complaining of being carried off at an age 
when they only began to enjoy life ; some, sensible to 
the charms of friendship, attached to home, and destined 
to agreeable, and advantageous positions in life, uttered 
cries which it was impossible to hear without shedding 
tears: every word they uttered cut me to the heart; 
scarcely had I strength left to console. At first, I 
mingled my tears with theirs : I could not, without 
injustice, refuse them this consolation, nor condemn 
their grief. This conduct was dangerous, and I saw no 
course more proper than to allow the effect of their first 
reflections to subside. The object of their regret did 
not make them guilty ; what could I condemn in their 
grief? It were an attempt t© stifle nature, to silence it 
on an occasion when it would be worthy of contempt, if 
it were insensible. 

The circumstances in which we were could not be 
more distressing. To see one's self die, to see friends 
die, unable to help them ; to be uncertain of the fate of 
thirteen persons, whose boat had been wrecked ; to have 
no doubt that the twenty-four near the vessel were not 
at least as wretched as ourselves ; to be ill fed, ill 
clothed, worn out, with sore legs, eaten up by vermin, 
blinded continually, either by the snow or by the 
smoke, such was our condition ; each one of us a pic- 
tare of death ; we shuddered to look at each other ; 
and what passed in myself justified my comrade's lam- 
entations. 

Violent grief is never lasting, and extreme evils more 
frequently fail to find expression than moderate ones. 

As soon as I saw them plunged in that silence which 
usually follows tears excited by a great misfortune, and 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 181 

marking an excessive grief, I endeavored to console 
tlienij and this is about what I said. 

^'I cannot condemn your lamentations, my dear chil- 
dren, and God will doubtless hear them favorably. We 
have more than once experienced in our misery the 
effects of his goodness. Our longboat open at every 
seam, yet sustained and buoyed up the night of our 
shipwreck; the resolution of the twenty-four men who 
sacrificed themselves for us ; and, above all, the discov- 
ery of the two Indian canoes, are events which clearly 
prove the protection which God affords us. He distrib- 
utes his favors only by degrees. He wishes us, before 
he completes them, to render ourselves worthy by our 
resignation in suffering the evils which it shall please 
him to send us. Let us not despair of his Providence ; 
it never abandons those who submit entirely to his will. 
If God does not deliver us in an instant, it is because he 
deems it proper to use for that purpose apparently nat- 
ural means ; he has already begun by leading the Sieur 
Vaillant and Master Foucault to the spot where the 
canoes are ; let us rest assured that he will accomplish 
this work. For my own part, I have no doubt he 
intends those canoes for our deliverance. This relief, 
my dear children, must soon be offered us : we have 
almost reached the month of March, the time when the 
Indians will come and take their canoes ; the term is 
not long ; let us have patience, and redouble our atten- 
tion to discover the coming of those from whom we 
expect relief. They doubtless have a sloop ; let us 
implore God to dispose them to take us in ; he holds 
in his hands the hearts of all men ; he will soften for 
us the hearts of these Indians ; he will excite their 

16 



18^ PERILS OF THE 

compassion in our favor and our confidence in nis good- 
ness^ joined to the sacrifice which we will make him of 
our pains will merit what we ask." 

I then fell on my knees^ and recited some prayers 
adapted to our situation and wants ; all imitated me, 
and none thought more of his evils but to offer them to 
God. We were tranquil enough till the fifth of March ; 
we beheld with joy the moment of our delivery 
approaching, we almost touched it, but God again chose 
to afflict us, and put our patience to new trials. 

On the sixth of March, Ash-Wednesday, about two 
o'clock in the morning, a heavy snow, driven by a vio- 
lent north wind, filled up our cup of misery : it fell so 
deep that it soon filled our cabin, and drove us into the 
sailors'. It entered here as much as into ours, but, as it 
was larger, we had more room ; our fire was out ; we 
had no means of making another, and to warm us we 
had no recourse but to huddle close to each other. We 
went to the sailors' cabin about eight o'clock in the 
morning of Wednesday, carrying our blanket and a little 
raw ham, which we ate as soon as we got in ; we then 
threw the snow into a corner of the cabin, spread the 
large blanket on the ground, lay down on it, and the 
fragments of the small ones served to shield us from the 
snow more than from the cold. In this state we 
remained without fire, and without eating or drinking 
anything but snow, till Saturday morning. 

I then resolved to go out, cold as it was, to bring some 
wood and fiour to make paste. It was risking life not 
to expose it to seek relief against cold and hunger. 
During the tliree days and nights we had spent in the 
sailors' cabin, I had seen four or five men die with their 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS 



183 



legs and hands completely frozen; we were fortunate 
not to be surprised in tlie same way, for the cold was so 
intense on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, that the 
hardest man would have infallibly died had he gone out 
of the cabin for ten minutes. You may judge by what 
I am going to tell you : the weather having become a 
little milder on Saturday, I determined to go out ; 
Leger, Basile and Foucault, resolved to follow me ; we 
were not over a quarter of an hour getting the flour, 
and yet Basile and Foucault had their hands and feet 
frozen on that journey, and died a few days after. 

"We were unable to go to the woods, which the snow 
rendered inaccessible, and we would have run the risk 
of perishing had we attempted to overcome this obstacle. 
We were, therefore, obliged to make our paste cold, 
each one had about three ounces, and we well-nigh paid 
with our lives this little relief, for all night long we 
were tormented by such a cruel thirst, and devoured by 
such a violent fever, that we thought every moment 
that we should be consumed. 

On Sunday, the 10th, Furst, Leger, and myself, 
availed ourselves of the weather, which was pretty 
good, to go and get a little wood ; we were the only 
ones able to walk, but the cold we had to endure, and 
the hardship we had to undergo, in clearing away the 
snow, well-nigh reduced us to the same state as the 
rest ; fortunately, we held out against both ; we brought 
in some wood, made a fire, and^ with snow water and 
a little flour, we had a very thin paste, which, in some 
slight degree, alleviated our thirst. 

All the wood which we brought in, was burnt up by 
eight o'clock, and the night was so cold, that the elder 



184 PERILS OF THE 

Sieur Yaillant was found dead in tlie morning. This 
accident led Furst, Leger, and myself, to think it bet- 
ter to return to our own cabin ; it was smaller, and 
consequently warmer than that of the sailors ; the snow 
had stopped, and there was no sign of another snow- 
storm. Great as was our weakness, we undertook to 
throw out of our first cabin, the snow and ice which 
filled it ; we brought in new fir branches for beds, we 
went for wood, and lighted a great fire inside and out- 
side of the cabin to warm it thoroughly. After this 
work, which had greatly fatigued us, we went for our 
companions. I brought the Sieurs de Senneville, and 
Yaillant the younger, whose legs and arms were frozen. 
Mr. le Yasseur, Basile, and Foucault, less afflicted than 
the others, endeavored to crawl along without help ; we 
laid them on the branches which we had prepared, and 
not one left them till after death. 

On the 17th, Basile became insensible, and died two 
days after. Foucault, who was of a hardy constitution, 
and was young, suffered a violent agony ; his struggles 
with death made us tremble, nor have I ever seen a 
more terrible sight. I endeavored to do my duty on 
these sad occasions, and I hope, from the divine good- 
ness, that my care has not been useless for the salvation 
of the dying. 

Our provisions drew near the end ; we had no more 
flour ; we had scarcely ten pounds of peas ; we had not 
seven pounds of candles, nor as much pork ; and our 
last ham did not weigh at best three pounds. It was 
time to think of other means of living ; accordingly, 
Leger and I, for Furst, our mate, was unable, went at 
low water to get shell-fish ; the weather was pretty fair. 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 185 

we walked knee-deep in water for two hours, and at 
last found on a sand-bank, a kind of oyster, with, single 
shell ; we brought along all we could ; they were good, 
and whenever the weather and the tide permitted, we 
went and laid in a stock ; but they cost us pretty dear, 
for, on reaching the cabin, our hands and feet were both 
swollen, and almost frozen. I did not dissemble from 
myself the danger I ran in renewing too often this kind 
of fishery ; I saw the consequence, but what was to be 
done ? We must live, or rather put off, for a few days, 
the moment of our death. 

Our sick companions grew worse daily ; gangrene set 
in their legs, and no one could dress them ; I under- 
took this charge ; it was incumbent on me to give an 
example of that charity which is the base of our holy 
religion, yet, for some moments, I wavered between the 
merit of fulfilling my obligations, and the danger of 
discharging them ; God gave me grace to triumph over 
my repugnance ; duty prevailed, and although the time 
of dressing my comrades' sores was the most cruel in 
the day, I never relaxed the care I owed them. I will 
inform you, in my seventh letter, of the nature of these 
sores, and you may judge how well founded was the 
repugnance I first felt to dressing them, or rather you 
will see how excusable it was as a first impression. I 
was well rewarded for my pain ; the gratitude of the 
sufferers is inconceivable. " What ! " said one, " you 
expose yourself to death to save ourselves ? Leave us to 
our pain ; your care may soothe it, but will never dis- 
miss it." "Leave us," said another, *^and do not 
deprive those who are not to die, of the consolation of 
having you with them ; only help us to put our con- 

16* 



186 PERILS OF THE 

science in a state to go and render an account to God of 
the days which, he has left us, and then fly the corrupted 
air which all breathes around us." 

You may judge that their entreaties were new ties 
which bound me to them ; they increased the pleasure 
which I felt in doing a duty, and gave me the strength 
and courage which I needed. 

Farewell, brother, I have not time to tell you more ; 
besides, I should be glad to hear of you before ending 
my narrative, and to know the effect which my last 
three letters have produced in your heart, and on the 
hearts of those whom you have allowed to read it. 

I am ever, with the same friendship, my dear brother. 
Your very affectionate brother, 

Emmanuel Crespel, RecolhcL 

Paderborn, March 28, 1742. 



LETTER Til. 

My Dear Brother : — I am happy to learn that 
your occupations have been the only cause of your 
silence ; I never suspected any other, and I see with 
pleasure that I was not mistaken. My last three let- 
ters have, you say, touched you as much as the previous 
ones have increased the curiosity of those who have 
seen them ; this flatters me greatly, and induces me to 
send you the rest without delay ; I hope you will have 
the last of it about the 18th of May, unless I am 
obliged to make some excursion before that ; be that as 
it may, you may rely on its being as soon as possible. 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 18T 

I soon saw that our sick comrades could not escape 
death ; they felt it themselves, and, although they 
seemed resigned, I did not deem myself dispensed from 
serving them the last days of their life. I said prayers 
morning and evening beside them ; I then confirmed 
them in the submission which they had to the will of 
Heaven ; " Offer your sufferings to Jesus Christ," I 
would say, " they will render you worthy of gathering 
the fruit of the blood shed for the salvation of the hu- 
man race ; the Man God is the perfect model of that 
patience and resignation which I admire in you ; your 
exile is about to end ; and what thanks have you not to 
render to our Lord for having furnished you, by this 
shipwreck, the surest means of reaching the port of 
salvation ! You leave, indeed, wives who expect all 
from you, my dear friends ; you leave children, whose 
establishment was to be your labor, but hope in God, 
he is a good Father, he never abandoned his own, and 
rest assured, that, in calling you to himself, he will not 
forget that he has taken you from your families, who 
will, after your death, need the care of his Providence. 
He has, himself, promised to be the stay of the widow 
and the orphan ; his word is firm ; his promises are 
never ineffectual, and you, by your sufferings, especially 
deserve that he should cast a look of favor on your 
wives and children, and do for them much more than 
you ever could have done." 

These poor dying men answered me only by assuring 
me that all their hope was in God, and that it was so 
firm that they were ready to leave the world without 
thinking of those whom they left, except to recommend 
them to his divine protection. 



188 PERILS OF THE 

When I liad finished speaking to them on spiritual 
things, I set to dressing their sores ; I had only lye to 
cleanse them ; I then covered them with some rags which 
I dried, and when I had to take these off I was sure to 
bring away strips of flesh which, by their corruption, 
spread an infected air even around the cabin. 

After twelve days, their legs had only the bones j 
the feet were detached, and their hands entirely wasted 
away. I was obliged to dress them several times ; the 
infection arising was so great that, every now and then, 
I had to get a breath of fresh air so as not to be suffo- 
cated. Do not think, dear brother, that I am imposing 
upon you ; God is my witness, that I add nothing to the 
truth, and the reality is more horrible than I can depict. 
"Words are too feeble to express a situation like mine 
then. How many touching things could I not tell you, 
if I set down the w^ords of these poor wretched men ! I 
constantly endeavored to console them by the hope of 
an eternal reward, and I often blended my tears with 
those which I saw them shed. 

On the first of April, the Sieur Leger went to the spot 
where the Indian canoes were, and I went to the woods 
about eight o'clock in the morning ; I was resting on a 
tree which I had cut down, when I thought I heard the 
report of a gun ; as we had several times heard the same 
noise without being able to discover whence it came, 
nor what it was, I paid no great attention to it. About 
ten o'clock, I went back to the cabin to ask Mr. Furst to 
come and help me bring in the wood I had cut ; I told 
him, as we walked along, what I thought I had heard, 
and at the same time kept looking out to see whether 
Mr. Leger was returning. We had scarcely gone two 



OCEAN' AND WILDERNESS. 189 

hundred paces when I perceived several persons ; I ran 
to meet them, and Mr. Furst hastened with this happy- 
news to our sick comrades. When I was near enough 
to distinguish, I saw an Indian with a woman whom 
Mr. Leger was bringing along. I spoke to this man ; 
he answered me, and then asked me several questions, 
which I answered properly. At the sight of our cabin 
he seemed surprised, and deeply touched at the extrem- 
ity to which we were reduced; he promised to come 
back the next day, to go a hunting, and bring us in 
whatever he killed. 

We spent the night in this expectation, and at every 
moment rendered thanks to Heaven for the relief it had 
just sent us. Day came, and seemed to bring in the 
solace which had been promised the day before ; but 
our hopes were deceived ; the morning glided away and 
the Indian did not keep his word. Some flattered 
themselves that he would come in the afternoon; for 
my own part, I suspected the cause of his delay ; I saw 
that it would be prudent to go to his cabin, and ask him 
why he had not come as he had promised, and if he 
hesitated in his answer, to force him to show us where 
the boat was in which he had crossed. We started, but 
judge of our consternation; on our arrival, we found 
neither the Indian nor his canoe ; he had carried it off 
during the night, and had retired to some place where 
we could not find him. 

To tell you the reason of such a course, I must 
inform you that the Indians are more fearful of death, 
and consequently of sickness, than all others. His flight 
was induced by the excessive fear peculiar to that race ; 
the display of dead bodies, the frightful state of our sick. 



190 PERILS OF THE 

the infection of their sores, had so alarmed the man, that, 
to avoid being affected by the tainted air, he thought 
best not to keep his word, and to change his abode, for 
fear we should go and force him to return to our cabin 
and aid us. 

Although this disappointment afflicted us greatly, we 
should have felt it more if there had not been a second 
canoe ; but we had to take measures to prevent its own- 
ers from escaping us. Our fear was that the Indian 
who had deceived us, would inform his comrade of the 
danger of visiting our cabin, and persuade him to go and 
get his canoe by night, and remove from the place 
where we were. 

This reflection led us to resolve to carry off the canoe 
with us, in order to oblige the Indian to come to our 
cabin and help us, whatever repugnance he might seem 
to have. But for this precaution we were lost; not 
one of the two occasions we had had would have served 
us, and our death was certain. 

When the canoe was brought, we fastened it to a tree, 
so that it could not be carried off without making noise 
enough to warn us that some one was detaching it. 

Some days were spent in waiting for the Indian to 
whom the canoe belonged ; but we saw no one, and 
during this time our three sick comrades died. 

On the seventh, in the evening, Mr. le Yasseur was 
surprised by a debility from which he never recovered, 
and the other two seeing that even the Indian's aid 
which we expected, would be useless to them, as they 
were unable to walk, again prepared to put themselves 
in a state to appear before God. 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 191 

The Sieur Yaillant, the younger, died on the tenth, 
after suffering for a whole month all that can possibly 
be imagined ; his patience always equalled his pain ; he 
was sixteen years old ; the Mr. Yaillant whom we had 
lost on the eleventh of March, was his father ; his youth 
never seemed to him a ground for complaining at being 
so soon taken from life ; in a word, he expired with that 
resignation and courage which characterize the perfect 
Christian. 

The Sieur de Senneville imitated the virtues of the 
younger Yaillant, or rather they were models to each 
other ; the same pain, the same patience, the same res- 
ignation ; why cannot I set down ail that these young 
men said the few days previous to their death ? They 
made me blush not to have as much courage to console 
them, as they had to suffer. With what confidence, 
what respect, did they not speak of religion and the 
mercy of our Lord? In what terms did they not 
express their gratitude ? They were indeed two noble 
souls, and the best hearts I ever met in my life. 

The latter several times begged me to cut his legs 
off, to prevent the gangrene getting up ; his entreaties 
were, as you will imagine, useless ; I constantly refused 
to do as he wished, and showed him that I had no 
instrument suitable for the operation, and that, even if I 
had wished to risk it, it would only increase his pain 
without guaranteeing him from death. He then put 
his affairs in order, and wrote to his parents in the most 
touching manner, and resigned his soul to God, on the 
evening of the thirteenth, aged about twenty. He was 
a Canadian, and son of the Sieur de Senneville, who 
was formerly a page to the Dauphiness, theu a Musque- 



19^ PERILS OF THE 

teer, and now King's Lieutenant at Montreal, wliere 
lie possesses considerable property. 

The death of these three victims, of cold and hunger, 
afflicted us greatly, although in fact their life was, so to 
say, a burthen to us ; I felt a father's love for them, 
and was abundantly repaid ; yet on reflecting that if 
the Indian had come while they were yet alive, we 
would have had to leave them alone and unassisted in 
the cabin, or lose the chance of goiag, I felt that I 
ought to thank our Lord for sparing me such a cruel 
alternative, by calling them to himself. We had, more- 
over, no more provisions ; there was left only the small 
ham of which I have spoken. This, we were afraid to 
touch, and contented ourselves with the shell-fish which 
Leger and I, from time to time, gathered on the sea- 
shore. Our weakness increased from day to d^y, and 
we could scarcely stand, when I resolved to go in search ^ 
of the Indians whose coming we expected, and ta use 
their canoe for this purpose ; we got gum from the trees 
to put it in order, and with our axe made paddles the 
best way we could; I knew how to paddle perfectly; 
this was a great advantage to accomplish our object, and 
even to expose ourselves, in case we could not find the 
Indians, to run the risk of crossing in the canoe; it 
was our last resource, since it was a question of pre- 
serving life, or voluntarily braving all. It was certain 
that, by remaining on that island, we had only a few 
days to live ; crossing the gulf we ran no greater risk, 
and might hope that our attempt would succeed. 

All was ready on the 26th of April ; we cooked half 
the ham, taking the broth first, and intending to reserve 
the meat for our route ; but in the evening we were so 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 193 

overcome by hunger, that we were forced to eat it all. 
The next day we were no stronger than the day before, 
and, on the 28th, we were without resources, and 
with no hope of finding any in time to save us from 
starvation. We accordingly prepared for death by re- 
citing the Litany of the Saints ; then we fell on our 
knees, and lifting my hands to Heaven, I uttered this 
prayer : 

" Great God, if it is thy will that we share the fate 
of the fourteen persons who have perished before our 
eyes, delay not to fulfil it ; do not permit despair to 
overcome us ; call us to thyself while we are resigned 
to leave this world without regret ; but. Lord, if thou 
hast not yet resolved our death, send us help, and give 
us strength to support, without a murmur, the afflictions 
which thy justice still prepares for us, that we may not 
lose in an instant the fruit of the submission which we 
have thus far had to the decrees of thy Providence." 

I was concluding my prayer, when we heard the re- 
port of a gun, which we quickly answered ; we supposed 
rightly, that it was the Indian who owned the canoe we 
had; he wished to see whether any of us were still 
alive, and perceiving it by our gun, he kindled a fire to 
pass the night. He did not suppose us able to go to 
him, and clearly did not wish us to do so, for, as soon 
as he saw us, he hid in the wood a part of a bear which 
he had killed, and fled. 

As we wore boots, we had a good deal of trouble to 
reach his fire ; we had to cross a pretty large river, 
thawed for some days ; we saw the tracks of his flight, 
and followed them with incredible fatigue ; and even 
this would have been useless, had not the Indian been 

17 



194 PERILS OF THE 

compelled to slacken liis pace to enable Hs son, a boy 
seven years old, to follow him. This cuxum stance was 
our salvation ; towards evening we overtook this man, 
who asked ns whether our sick were dead ; this question, 
which he put with an air of fear, lest they should still 
survive, left us no room to doubt but that the first 
Indian had told him of our state, and the danger of 
approaching our abode. I did not think proper at first 
to answer his question, and without any more ado I 
pressed him to give us something to eat, and for this 
purpose to return. He durst not resist ; we were two 
to one, well armed, and, what is more, resolved not to 
leave him for a moment. He admitted that he had 
almost a whole bear, which he did not refuse to share 
with us. When we got to the place where he had hid- 
den this bear, we each eat a piece half cooked ; we then 
made the Indian and his wife take the rest, and led 
them to the spot where we had left Mr. Furst. This 
poor man awaited us in extreme impatience. When 
we arrived, he was ready to expire. You may imagine 
his joy when we told him that we had food and assist- 
ance. He first ate a piece of bear meat ; we put the 
pot on the fire, and took broth all night long, which we 
spent without sleeping, for fear our Indian, who would 
not sleep in the cabin, should decamp. When the day 
came, I gave this man clearly to understand that he 
must take us to the place where the boat was, in which 
he had crossed, and, to induce him not to refuse our 
request, I told him that we would use him very roughly 
if he made any delay about it. The fear of being 
killed made him speedily construct a sled, on which he 
put his canoe ; he made signs for Leger and me to drag 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 195 

it, wishing, doubtless, to tire us out, and oblige us to 
give up aid which cost us so dear. We might have 
forced him to carry the canoe himself, but this violence 
seemed to me out of place ; it was better to manage our 
Indian, and all we could do was to use precaution, so 
as not to be duped. I will tell you, in my eighth letter, 
what these precautions were, and that one, I believe, 
will enable me to conclude my shipwrecks, and tell 
you of my return to France. 

I am ever, with perfect attachment, my dear brother. 
Your very affectionate brother, 

Emmanuel Crespel, Recollect, 

Paderborn, April 24, 1742. 



LETTER VIII. 

My Dear Brother : — I should have sent you the 
close of my narrative last month, had I not been obliged 
to spend some weeks in the country. During all my 
absence, I could not find a single quarter of an hour of 
which I was master enough to devote to satisfying your 
curiosity completely. I returned only yesterday to 
Paderborn. I made several visits this morning ; some 
you know are indispensable, and I sacrifice the rest of 
the day. 

I required of the Indian and his wife that they should 
go ahead, under the pretext of clearing the way ; but I 
did not end my precautions here. I told them that the 
child would get tired on that march, and that he must 



196 PERILS OF THE 

be put in the canoe, and that it would afford us a pleas- 
ure to relieve him in that way. 

The heart of a parent is everywhere the same ; there 
is none that does not feel obliged for favors done his 
children, and that does not accept it with pleasure 
This man's son was a hostage in our hands for his 
parent's fidelity. We walked over a league, through 
snow, water, or ice ; our fatigue was extreme, but the 
hope of the fruit it was to bear supported and 
encouraged us ; yet it was impossible for us to drag the 
sled all the time. We gave out, and the Indian, touched 
with our exhaustion, took the canoe on his shoulders 
and carried it to the shore, and first put his wife and 
child in. The question then was, which of us should 
embark? The canoe could only hold four, and conse- 
quently only one of us three could profit by it. I first 
ofiered to remain, and told Messrs. Furst and Leger to 
settle between them which should go ; each wished to 
have the preference, and feared to lose this opportunity 
of avoiding a wretched end ; while they were disputing, 
the Indian motioned me to come, and, after telling me 
that he guessed the reason of the apparent dispute 
between my two comrades, he said he would only take 
me into the canoe, and without giving me time to 
answer, he dragged me in, and put off. 

Mr. Furst and Mr. Leger gave themselves up as lost ; 
their cries expressed their despair ; I could not resist 
them, and requested the Indian to put in shore to enable 
me to say a word of consolation to my comrades. 
When I got within speaking distance, I justified my 
course by telling them what the Indian had said. I 
advised them to follow the shore, and promised them. 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 191 

on the word of a priest, that, as soon as I reached the 
Indian cabin, I would come for them in a canoe. They 
knew me incapable of perjury ; this assurance consoled 
them, and without distrust they saw us put out to sea. 

That day we landed ; the Indian took his canoe on 
his shoulders, carried it near the wood, and laid it on the 
snow. As I was tired from being so long on my knees 
in the canoe, I was resting on a rock near the shore. 
After a while, believing that the Indian was kindling a 
fire to sleep there, I took my gun, two paddles, and 
two large pieces of meat, which I had taken to save Mr. 
Furst and Mr. Leger the trouble of carrying them, and 
I ascended the heaps of ice, which were at least six feet 
high. No sooner was I at the top, than I saw that my 
Indian and his wife had put on their snow-shoes, a kind 
of frame used by the Canadians to go faster over the 
snow ; the man carried the child on his back, and both 
were running as fast as they could. The cries I uttered 
to stop them only made them redouble the celerity of 
their course. I at once threw down my paddles, 
descended the ice mound, and, with my gun and meat> 
followed their trail for some time. 

While climbing the mound of ice, I wounded myself 
quite badly in the right leg, and the pain was renewed 
every time that I sank in the snow as I ran along, that 
is to say, every moment. I could no longer breathe, 
and had to stop several times to take breath, and to rest 
on the muzzle of my gun. I was in this posture, when 
I heard Mr. Leger's voice — this meeting gave us both 
extreme pleasure. I told him what had occurred, and 
he, on his side, told me that Mr. Turst, overcome with 
fatigue, had been unable to follow him, and that he had 

17* 



198 PERILS OF THE 

left him stretched out on the snow, at a place quite 
remote from where we were. 

In any other circumstances, I should have flown to 
his assistance ; but it was all-important for us to over- 
take our runaway. Mr. Leger, like myself, felt how 
much we risked in delaying any longer to follow his 
trail. 

"We instantly started for the place where I knew he 
had fled ; but, as he had left the snow to take the sea- 
shore, which was low and sandy, we were stopped for 
some time. We kept on, however, and after walking 
a quarter of an hour, again struck on the trail of the 
Indian, who had taken ofi" his snow-shoes, doubtless 
thinking that I had been unable to follow him thus far. 
This circumstance made us think that his cabin was not 
far ofi": we redoubled our speed, and, as we got near 
the wood, we heard the report of a gun ; we did not* 
think it worth while to answer it, for fear that, if it was 
fired by the Indian whom we were pursuing, he would 
resume his snow-shoes to fly with new swiftness, as 
soon as he knew we were so near. 

We accordingly continued to walk on, and, soon after 
the first report, we heard another ; this made us suspect 
that the Indian wished to light a fire there, to rest with 
his wife and child, after satisfying himself that he was 
not followed. This conjecture was false, as you will 
soon see. 

Ten minutes after the second report, we heard a third, 
of which we saw the flash ; no answer from us ; we 
advanced in silence. On our way, we found a large boat 
on which somebody had been working the day before, and 
twenty steps further, we saw a large cabin. We entered 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 199 

with, the air which suited our situation ; the tone of 
suppliants was the only one that became us ; we took it 
at first, but the old man, who spoke French, would not 
permit us to continue it. 

" Are not all men equals ? " said he, " at least ought 
they not to be ? Your misfortune is a title to respect, 
and I regard it as a fa-vor, that Heaven, by bringing 
you here, gives me an opportunity to do good to men, 
whom misery still pursues. I only require of you to 
tell me what has befallen you, since you were cast on 
this island ; I should be glad to sympathize with you 
over your past sufferings ; my sensibility will be a new 
consolation." 

At the same time, he ordered them to cook our meat 
with peas, and spare nothing, to show that humanity is 
as much a virtue of the American Indian, as of more 
civilized people. When this old man had given his 
orders, he begged us to gratify his curiosity ; I endeav- 
ored to forget none of the circumstances which you 
know attende^d our misfortune, and, after having finished 
my story, I begged the old man to tell me why the two 
Indians, whom we had seen in the depth of our misery, 
had refused to help us. 

" Indians," said he, " tremble at the mere name of 
sickness, and all my arguments have not yet dispelled 
the terror which still fills all whom you see in this 
cabin. It is not that they are insensible to the misery of 
their brethren ; they would fain help them, but the fear 
of breathing a tainted air checks the impulses of their 
hearts, which are naturally compassionate. They fear 
death, not like other men, but to such a degree, that I 
know not what crimes they would not commit, to avoid it. 



goo PERILS OF THE 

Here/' said he, pointing to an Indian behind the others, 
" this is the one who broke his word to you ; he came 
here early in the month, and told us the wretched state 
in which he had seen the Frenchmen, whom he sup- 
posed all dead by that time, and whom he would have 
willingly assisted, but for the corruption among them. 
Here is the other," continued the old man, pointing to 
the one whom I had pursued, "he got here an hour 
before you, and told us that there were still three French- 
men alive, that they were no longer near their dead 
companions, that they were in health, and could, he 
thought, be aided without risk of bringing infection 
with them ; we deliberated a moment, and then sent 
one towards the quarter where you were, to show you, 
by three reports of a gun, where our cabin was. Your 
sick, alone, prevented our going to help you, and we 
should, perhaps, have gone, if we had not been assured 
that the aid we might send, would be of no use to you, 
and might be of great injury to us, as your cabin was 
filled and surrounded with infected air, which it would 
be very dangerous to breathe." 

Such language in the mouth of a man belonging to a 
nation whom a false prejudice makes us suppose inca- 
pable of thinking or reasoning, and to whom we unjustly 
deny sentiment and expression, surprised me greatly. 
I even avow, that to have the idea of Indians which I 
give 5^ou, it did not need less than my seeing them. 

When the old man got through, I endeavored to 
express all the gratitude which we felt. I begged him 
to accept my gun, which its goodness and ornaments, for 
it was covered with them, raised in value above all those 
in the cabin. I then told him that fatigue had pre- 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 201 

vented one of our comrades from following ns, and that 
it would be the crowning of his kindness if he would 
send two men to enable them to reach us. My entreat- 
ies were useless ; Indians fear to go out by night, and 
nobody would undertake to go to the relief of Mr. Furst. 
They promised me, however, that they, would go early 
next morning ; this refusal gave me much pain ; the old 
man perceived it, and, to console me said, that it would 
be quite useless to try, and find my friend in the dark, 
as he had no gun to show where he was, and that it was 
better to wait for daylight. Mr. Furst accordingly 
spent the night in the snow, where God alone could 
shield him from death, for, even in the cabin, we endured 
inexpressible cold. The Indians never make a fire 
when they lie down ; they have not even blankets, and 
consequently we spent a very poor night. The next 
day, as we were preparing to go after Mr. Furst, we saw 
him arrive ; our footprints had guided him, and to over- 
take us he had profited by the time when the snow, 
hardened by the night's cold, does not yield to the 
weight of a man walking. Our first care was to warm 
him, we then gave him some food, and we showed one 
another the joy we felt to be together again. 

We spent the twenty-ninth and thii'tieth of April 
with the Indians ; they seemed to be jealous who would 
show us most attention, and endeavored to surpass each 
other in this respect. Bear meat and caribou did not 
fail us those two days, and they took care to give us 
the most delicate morsels. I know not whether the 
duties of hospitality are better fulfilled by Europeans 
than by these Indians. At least I am tempted to believe 
that these fulfil them with far better grace. 



202 PERILS OF THE 

On the first of May, they launched the large boat ; 
we all embarked and set sail; the wind failed us 
towards noon, at about six leagues from the main land. 
This accident afflicted me; I feared to be unable to 
relieve soon enough such of our comrades as had sur- 
vived at the place of the shipwreck. This fear made 
me entreat the old man to give me two men, with a 
bark canoe to go ashore. I tried to induce him to grant 
my request by promising to send tobacco and brandy to 
all in the large boat, as soon as I got to the French. 
Much as he would have liked to oblige me, he first 
consulted before making me any promise, and it was 
not without difficulty that they paid any attention to my 
request. They feared that a trip of six leagues was too 
long for a canoe, and they did not wish to expose us to 
perish. We accordingly started, and about half-past 
eleven o'clock in the evening we reached land. 1 
entered the house of the French ; the first whom I saw 
was Mr. Volant, a native of St. German-en-Laye, my 
friend and master of this post. I could not fall into 
better hands ; I found in a single man the sincere desire 
and real power of serving me. He did not recognize 
me at first, and in fact I was not recognizable ; as soon 
as I told him my name, he lavished marks of friendship 
on me, and the pleasure we had in embracing each 
other was extreme on both sides. I told him first to 
what I was bound ; with regard to the Indians he kept 
my promise, and each one of our liberators had liquor 
and tobacco. They arrived there only at ten o'clock in 
the morning ; till that time I was recounting to Mr. 
Volant all that had happened to me, and I insisted 
especially on the fate of the twenty-four men who 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 203 

were at the wreck. My friend was the more touched 
by it as they were still in pain. "He immediately fitted 
out a boat to go to their relief and to discover, if possible, 
whether any one of the eleven men of the small boat 
was still alive. When he got to the neighborhood of 
our shipwreck, he fired several guns to make himself 
heard by those whom we had left there ; at the same 
time he saw four men who fell on their knees, and with 
clasped hands begged him to save their lives. Their 
wasted faces, so to speak, the sound of their voice, which 
told that they were on the brink of the grave, and their 
cries, pierced the heart of Mr. Volant. He advanced to 
them, gave them some food, but with moderation for 
fear of killing them, by overloading their system sud- 
denly. In spite of this wise precaution, one of these 
four men, named Fenguay, a Breton by birth, died after ^ 
drinking a glass of brandy. 

My friend had the twenty-one men buried who had 
died since we left them, and brought off the other three 
who had borne up against hardship, hunger, and the 
severity of the season ; they were, however, far from 
being in perfect health ; one of them, named Tourrillet, 
the master's mate from the department of Brest, was 
slightly deranged, and the other two, by name, Boudet 
and Bonau, both from Isle Bhe, were swollen over the 
whole body. 

Good food and the care we took of them restored 
them, if not perfectly, at least enough to enable them to 
start with us for Quebec. 

Returning, Mr. Volant perceived, near the shore, one 
who seemed to have been drowned, and some fragments 
of a canoe ; he advanced to make sure of what he per- 



204 PERILS OF THE 

ceived ; and by firing several times, endeavored to see 
whetlier there was any one there ; no one appeared ; 
there was no answer, and all I can say is, that thirteen 
men died of cold and hunger, as my friend saw a kind 
of cabin some distance from the shore, which proved 
that they had landed and, finding no relief there, had 
perished miserably. 

It is useless, I believe, to tell you the feelings which 
we experienced, when we saw the three men arrive who 
had escaped from the shipwreck ; you may imagine how 
touching it was, and how Httle tears were spared. 

After tenderly embracing each other, I asked them 
how they had been able to live till then, and how the 
others had died ; they told me that cold and hunger 
had carried off a part of their comrades, and that the 
others had been consumed by ulcers horrible to look 
upon ; that, for themselves, having become destitute of 
all food, they had eaten the very shoes of their deceased 
comrades after boiling them in snow-water, and roasting 
them on coals ; and this resource having failed, they 
had even eaten the leather breeches of those whom 
death had carried off; and that they had only one or 
two, when Mr. Yolant had come to their relief. 

You see well, that the condition of these poor people 
had not been less deplorable than ours, and they had, 
perhaps, suffered much more than we, if for nothing 
else than the necessity of eating the very garments of 
those comrades whom they had lost. We remained 
nearly six weeks at Mingan, all which time we spent 
in thanking God for having preserved us amid so many 
dangers, and we did not pass a day without imploring 



OCEAN AND WILDERNESS. 205 

his mercy, for tlie souls of forty-eight men who had 
perished since our shipwreck. 

The Sieur Leger left us, and started for Labrador, 
intending to go to France on a St. Malo ship, and, on 
the 8th of June, we took the occasion of a small craft 
to return to Quebec. The wind was so favorable, that, 
on the evening of the 13th, we landed. All were 
amazed to see us again ; they thought us in France ; 
every one eagerly asked us what had brought us back, 
and what had happened to us after our departure. We 
satisfied the curiosity of those whose attachment to us 
made them interested in all that concerned us. 

The next day, they conveyed to the hospital the 
three sailors whom Mr. Yolant had found at the place 
of our shipwreck. Mr. Furst and I, each did, for our 
part, what was necessary to restore us completely. As 
soon as my Superiors saw that I was a little better, they 
gave me the little parish of Soulanges, which I served 
for a year ; I then received a second obedience to go to 
France. I accordingly embarked as chaplain, on board 
the king's ship, " Le Rubis," commanded by Mr. De 
la Joncaire, Capitaine de Haut-Bord. 

We left Quebec the 21st of October, 1738, and, on 
the 2d of December, we entered Port Louis, in Brittany, 
to get some provisions, for we were running out. We 
remained there about twenty days, and left it on the 22d, 
with the " Facon," commanded by the Marquis de 
Chavagnac, who came from Cape Breton. 

About midnight, we anchored for about two hours, off 
Belle Isle, to wait for a wind ; we then made sail for 
Rochefort, which we reached next day, and there my 
duties detained me till all was unloaded. 

18 



206 PERILS OF THE 

Some days after, I started for Paris, whence I was 
sent to Douay, in Flanders. Here I remained, till early 
in 1740, when I was appointed Yicar of our Convent 
of Avesnes, in Hainaut. I arrived there on the 25th 
of January, the same day that I had left it, sixteen 
years before. My Superiors, in sending me to that 
house, had expected that some years' stay in my native 
country would completely restore me, after the hard- 
ships I had undergone in my travels. I had conceived 
the same hope, but it turned out quite the reverse ; my 
stomach could no longer bear the food of that part ; I 
had, so to speak, acquired a new constitution ; repose 
was injurious to me, and I had to accustom myself to it 
gradually. This made me solicit from my Superiors an 
obedience to return to Paris, the air of which suited me 
much better than that of my province. They were 
kind enough to grant my request, and when I was per- 
fectly well, they appointed me chaplain in the French 
army, commanded by the Marshal Maillebois. 

Such, my dear brother, is the account of my voyages 
and shipwrecks. I hope you will be better satisfied 
with it, than with what I sent you first. You may rest 
assured, that I have stated nothing that is not in accord- 
ance with strict truth. I hope, indeed, that the rumors 
which begin to prevail, have some foundation ; I should 
soon have the pleasure of embracing you at Frankfort, 
and of proving to you that I am, and shall be all my 
life, with the sincerest friendship, dear brother. 
Your very afiectionate brother, 

Emmanuel Crespel, Recollect, 

Paderborn, June 18, 1742. 



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Of the merits of tlie work itself we presume we need not speak at length, 
after the specimen of its style and manner which we gave last week. Written 
in a tone of rare modesty and translucent candor, it still does not lack that vigor 
and purity of style, deep research, cogent reasoning, and simple, touching elo- 
quence which might be expected from the reputation for erudition and mental 
force which Dr. Ives always had among his co-religionists up to the period when 
he resolved upon the rending sacrifice of which this volume furnishes the rea- 
sons. Its publication will show the desperate falseness of the allegation by 
which the ex-bishop's friends endeavored to account for his conversion, and 
which it is probable themselves never believed. The Protestant Churchman, 
we observe, in noticing the work, says it " should like to see those bishops, who 
pronounced Dr. Ives mad, undertake to refute this book.^^ 

This book will pri.bably have a larger sale than any controversial work ever 
published in this country. The copies for sale at the office of the Vindicator are 
already nearly all gone ; but a further supply will soon reach us. — Detroit Cath- 
olic Vindicator. 

Protestant Opinions. 

The Newport (R. I.) J^Tews thus criticizes the book : — " This will be a work of 
exceeding interest both to Catholics and Protestants, as Dr. Ives gives his rea- 
sons for leaving the Episcopal Church and entering the Catholic Church. In 
whatever light Protestants may regard tliis change in the religious opinions of 
the author, they certainly cannot charge him with any ambitious, dishonest, or 
unholy motive, because, as far as distinctions on earth are concerned, he had 
gained all that man can have in the ministry, as far as preferment is concerned 
in tho Episcopal Church. He was one of its bishrps for more than twenty 
years ; and, in entering the Church of Rome, he acquires no distinction. He, 
itjeing a married man, cannot ever be a priest in that Church. Under these cir- 
cumstances, we think that all must at least give him credit for honesty and sin- 
cerity in the course which he has pursued. The work is carefully and elabo- 
rately written, and indicates throughout the fervency of a Christian spirit. We 
commend it to the perusal of all Christians, that they may fully comprehend the 
motives which induced the step which the author has taken, and the reasons 
which led him into the Catholic Church." 

This is a plain and lucid statement of the difficulties which beset the mind 
of Bishop Ives during his ministry in the Episcopal Church, and of the satis- 
faction that he has felt since his union with the Church of Rome. He has 
given the highest evidence of the sincerity of his convictions, whatever our 
opinion may be of their soundness. A bishop, loved, honored, and respected, 
he has sacrificed position and fortune in the pursuit of what he believed to be 
the truth. Being a person of learning, also, not misled by a partial view of th« 
question, his book commands the calm investigation of every mind solicitous 
fat the truth. — Philu. City Rem. 



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